


Warping Circumstances

by deritine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Blood and Gore, Crack Treated Seriously, Dimension Travel, Dumbledore Gets The Short End of the Stick, Except when he is, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Good Slytherins, Horcruxes, Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Non-Human Rights, Parseltongue, Paselmagic is Not Useful, Slytherin Harry, Started out Serious but I can't write Serious Things, Tom Riddle isn't Voldemort, Unintentional Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 80,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deritine/pseuds/deritine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gets sent back in time and across dimensions because... well, there doesn't really seem to be a reason why. Life is kind of awesome here. But Harry's full of Horcruxes and this world is ripe for the taking- he just has to prevent himself from going insane and becoming the next Dark Lord. Helpfully, he's regressed to a child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening to Death

**Author's Note:**

> : speech : is Parseltongue
> 
> / speech / is mental speak

A curse slices through the specialty armor of his robes as Harry dodges violently to the right. :I have you now, Harry Potter: A voice hisses in Parseltongue right into Harry's ear. He whirls around with a cry of horror and finds himself staring directly into the eyes of the Dark Lord.

Harry ignores Voldemort as the red-eyed freak starts to cast Avada Kedavra. It is not as though he hasn't been in this same position countless times before. It not be any more effective now than it has been in the past. Harry narrows his eyes and raises his wand. " _ Legilimens _ !" Harry shoulders his way into the Dark Lord's mind, ignoring the barriers of the Occlumency as if it were nothing. With the curse scar piping a direct link between Voldemort and Harry, there is no way the pale half-dead wizard can block Harry's attack. He has become much more skilled since the last time they met in combat. Practicing on the five missing Horucrux and backed by their tamed power it seems almost too easy.

Harry rips Voldemort's soul from him. For a second, nothing happens. But then, with a satisfied click, all the six pieces so carefully collected snap together with Harry's own soul. Voldemort's empty shell falls unnoticed at Harry's feet as he battles for dominance with the last remnants of the being that was Tom Riddle.

However, Harry has the upper hand. He has been battling to subdue pieces of Voldemort's soul since he was a year old and consciously since he was eighteen. Harry rides though the uprising of the previously subdued Horucrux with grim determination. Harry grits his teeth together around the scream and battles for his life and very soul. The pain is so intense that it feels as though his very essence is being flayed into pieces with acid and boiling potions. All that keeps him going is the thoughts of all the people relying on him, all the people that have died for him. Dumbledore and Sirius both gone; Lupin lost in killing Greyback, Ron and Hermoine dead in this last battle after the past five years of hiding and fighting. Hell, he's even doing it for that bastard Snape, even if he only betrayed the Dark Lord because he was forced to protect Harry through the Unbreakable Oath to Dumbledore.

Harry holds back howls of pain as he pushes hard on the combined soul shards of Lord Voldemort, screaming out loud finally when he cannot contain the pain any longer. The battle lances off little parts of himself, mixes them with parts of Voldemort, he clings to himself.  _ I am Harry Potter I am Harry Harry … hold… Voldemort, kill keep, dead, Harry… _

Finally the pain subsides: he has won. However the last part has already done a lot of damage to his mind. Panting on the ground, Harry looks up at the wands of all the Death Eaters pointed at him. The remaining Order Members are closing in, but they won't be in time. Harry smiles and points his wand at himself. " _ Avada Kedavra." _  The only way to remove Voldemort from the world is to take out Harry as well, by his own hand. Everything goes black to sounds of a dozen curses firing.

The light opens in front of him. Opens… like doors. Like really tall doors. Like the doors… to the Great Hall? Harry's eyes finally focus, well as best they can anyway. He reaches up to feel his face. The glasses are gone, but then again he hasn't needed them since Hermione cast the eye-correction charm on him a year ago. They had been hiding in France with Bill and his wife Fleur at the time, trying to locate another elusive Horucrux and get some much-needed training in at the same time. Harry looks down at his hand in confusion.  _ Why do I have a hand? Aren't I dead? _

"Come along then, children, follow me." Harry looks up at the retreating back of Professor McGonagall. Young witches and wizards stream past him. Harry's vision gets even more blurry from the tears. McGonagall is alive? He could have sworn that he had seen her go down during the final battle…

In a daze he follows the mass of children into the hall. When he tries to veer off to the Gryffindor table a small hand grabs him around the arm. "That's alright Harry. You'll be sorted soon enough. Just come with me now." Sorted? Harry shakes his head, confused. "Come on, just wait with me a bit, eh?" Bewildered, Harry follows this mysterious voice that he somehow knows… Jeff? Why does he know a Jeff?

Harry listens to the names, but he doesn't seem to recognize any of them. When McGonagall calls, "O'Donnell, Harold," Harry is much surprised to find himself being propelled forward by the mysterious Jeff.

"Good luck, Harry!" Jeff whispers before Harry finds a bony hand replacing the other boy's.

"Why they are even letting you be sorted… it's a crying shame. You aren't capable of this level of work…" McGonagall mutters to herself before she guides Harry to sit on the stool and places the hat over Harry's head. The brim falls down over even his nose. Harry raises his hand to touch the leather brim but has his hand gently swatted away. "Leave that dear, just sit still for a second." Harry is completely lost, but he lets the hat start to sift through his head. Until he can figure out what is going on, Harry decides to act as innocent as possible and wait to gather more information.

Unlike the first time, Harry is not startled when the voice in his head starts to speak. "They warned me about you, but I don't see why. Got a better mind here than I've seen in a while. It seems almost as if… but no, it isn't my place to speculate I suppose."  _ Just get this over with, keeping my defenses down this long is making me nervous. _  "Hmm. Playing along, are we? Want to know the lay of the land before taking a step? Very cunning of you, very cunning. And from what the teachers were telling me, you have been doing it very well. Sly and sneaky, hiding from the world, it had better be SLYTHERIN!"

Harry is not overly surprised at the pronouncement, although the crowd seems to be. McGonagall lifts the hat from his head wordlessly and holds onto his hand as she calls, "O'Donnell, Jeffery!"

After a long pause, where even Harry's limited eyesight can see that the boy on the stool is becoming agitated, the hat calls grudgingly "SLYTHERIN!"

Jeff comes back over to Harry and takes his hand from McGonagall. "Wanted to put me in Hufflepuff, it did! Said I was much too loyal and far too clumsy for Slytherin! Well, I told it what for! No way I'll be separated from you, Harry. Tom told me that I was to take care of you and I shall. I thought for sure we would both be Hufflepuff though." Harry lets the babbling boy lead him over to the house tables, as he can hardly see anything. And he has a lot to think about. Who is this 'Tom'? Who is Jeff, for that matter?

Once Jeff sits him down at the table he surreptitiously checks his robes for his wand. To his relief it is right where he always leaves it, strapped to his arm with a leather band. He had gotten into the habit of keeping it there during the war so that it is easier and quicker to draw it. He aims the wand at his face and whispers the incantation for the eye-correction charm under his breath. Hermione had made him learn it. 'What if someone undoes it on the battlefield?' That was something she had said almost constantly about all their protective spells.

Harry sighs with relief when he can finally see again and looks around the room. It is indeed the Great Hall of Hogwarts, there are the four tables, there the four banners. Harry feels odd sitting at the Slytherin table, it gives an odd skew to the whole place and makes it seem strange. He looks to the Gryffindor table, trying to find someone he recognizes. With a shock he realizes that he cannot place a single face! And more than that, there are no red-heads at all at the table. What in the world happened?

Harry rubs his forehead. He had killed himself, hadn't he? He'd dragged down the soul of Voldemort that had become intricately attached to his own, bound by the seventh of Voldemort's soul that had become one with his own. He closes his eyes and looks inside, as he is used to doing, checking on the Horucrux. There he sees the entire soul, coiled peaceably around and within his own, taking the form of a giant basilisk.  _ No no no no no! _  Harry sinks his head down into his arms. He failed! One purpose, one mission in life and he failed  _ utterly _ ! He should have known the killing curse wouldn't work. It didn't before. Should he use a knife then? What? Had all those years in an orphanage that prepared him for this been for nothing? Harry nearly jumps out of his seat. He was never in an orphanage! That was Voldemort. Harry groans and starts to shake violently.

"Harry, it's alright mate. You'll be fine! There now, calm down." Harry looks over at Jeff, seeing him for the first time. The kid has blond hair and brown eyes and freckles. He's a bit on the thin side and looking at Harry earnestly.

"Sorry," Harry says, or tries to. All that emerges is a strangled croak. He pauses, surprised with how rough his voice is.

Jeff's eyes widen and light up from within. "It's alright Harry. Just calm down, alright?" He grins broadly. "It's like you are actually looking at me, today."

Harry just nods his head and stares back at his plate. He will have to do some research about how to rid oneself of a second soul. But he is in Hogwarts, and that is more reference materials than he could have ever hoped to have on the run from Voldemort. But first, perhaps he should find out where he is. That might give some clues as to what in the world happened.

Dumbledore's voice brings Harry out of his contemplation of his meal. His eyes start to water at the long-absent view of the Headmaster standing at the Head Table. Harry doesn't know how it is possible that he is still alive, and he looks better than Harry can every remember him looking. Younger somehow. "And without further ado, let the feast begin!" Harry doesn't notice when the food appears on the table. He is caught looking at the staff table. There hardly seems to be anyone he recognizes. Wait, there is Flitwick, and there McGonagall. But who is that sitting next to Dumbledore? Harry looks intently at the stranger. He looks so familiar. Dark hair, pale complexion. Why does he feel uneasy looking at this person?

The man turns and sees Harry looking at him. He smiles slightly at Harry before returning to his discussion with Dumbledore. Harry stares at him for a few seconds more, utterly puzzled. Harry continues down the line. The next person is almost as surprising. It looks like a very clean and almost… happy? Severus Snape. But that can't be right. He looks like he is younger than Harry. Or rather, younger than Harry was before… whatever happened to him.

The young man turns to look at Harry as well and smiles encouragingly. Harry is dumbfounded. This doesn't seem to bug the man at all and he returns to eating. Why does Snape look like he's a teenager? Is that even Snape? Maybe it is a cousin that just looks like him. Were there more Princes around? Harry shakes his head and continues down the line. Next is Slughorn, chatting animatedly to a woman that Harry does not in the least recognize. She has long straight brown hair held up by what looks to be sticks and wire-rim glasses perched on her nose.

On the other side of Dumbledore, besides Flitwick and McGonagall, there is Professor Sprout and another woman he doesn't recognize who looks suspiciously like a gypsy. Harry is very lost. Who are these two strange women and the one somewhat familiar man? And is that really Snape? Harry also notes a couple empty seats. Who else could there be? It seems to be a lot more seats than Harry can remember there being when he was at school. In fact, there seem to be a good deal more students as well.

"Harry, you should eat something. Here, I got some good food for you." Harry looks down at his plate absently and notes that Jeff has lumped a good load of chicken and potatoes on it.

"So, I hear this bloke's a few twigs short of a broom." Harry looks up at a sneering Slytherin boy absently as he picks through his food.

"There is nothing wrong with Harry!"

A girl to the other side of the obnoxious boy speaks up. "Yeah, I hear that the only thing he does is cast spells. Any spell you ask, isn't that right Jeffery?"

"My name is Jeff, and don't ask him to! He just is confused that's all."

The girl smirks. Harry chews. Apparently he has been out of it for some time. "I hear that your foster mom and dad found him when they were going for a broom ride over the country. That they almost didn't see him he was so dirty."

"Shut up about Harry! You don't know what he's been through!" Jeff looks like he is about to start crying. Harry isn't about to end this, though. He is learning a lot about what supposedly happened to him.

"You don't know either, isn't that right?" The boy sneers, leaning in. "I bet I know just as much as you do. He's so retarded the only things he can say are spell incantations and his name, over and over. 'Harry. I'm Harry. Harry. Harry!'" A hand grabs the back of the boy's robe and pulls him back.

"That will be quite enough Mr. DuBrey." This is the Snape that Harry is used to. All his doubts have been cleared. Now that Snape is scowling and angry, it is easy to see that it could be no other. Harry frowns. What manner of strange magic made a  _ nice _  and  _ clean _  Snape? And did he take a de-Aging potion? It must be some result from all the curses fired at Harry right before he Avada-Kedavraed himself. He can think of no other explanation. Snape pushes the boy back into his seat by the shoulder. "I would suggest you stop harassing our new students before you become the first person in detention."

DuBrey looks sullen and mutters under his breath. "Just because you want to protect the little freak doesn't mean you can suddenly give detentions."

"On the contrary, Mr. DuBrey. I do have the power to assign detentions. It is part of my student assistance to Professor Riddle this year." Riddle! Harry's eyes dart over to the dark haired man laughing with Dumbledore. Of course! That is why he looks familiar. He is an older version of the Tom Riddle Harry saw in the diary, the second Horucrux. Harry feels himself pale. "Do not worry, Harry." He says with a friendly wink before making his way back up to the staff table. Harry's jaw drops. Snape just winked at him?

"Look at the idiot, he can't even keep his mouth closed." DuBrey mutters under his breath. Harry snaps his mouth closed and glares at the older boy. DuBrey looks vaguely surprised.

The rest of the meal passes in relative peace. Harry savors the pumpkin juice and sweets as well as the calm atmosphere. If all he has to deal with while he figures out what is going on is a couple jerks, he will be thrilled. Jerks tend not want to kill you, as such.

"First years, follow me." Comes a voice from behind the table. Jeff grabs Harry's hand and leads him off after the Slytherin prefects. Harry follows along, noting that they are actually going a longer route than one he would have taken. Likely this is because it is considerably straighter and easier to remember.

When they finally get to the entrance to the Common Room the male prefect says the password, 'Scales of Justice,' which Harry thinks a rather odd password for a Slytherin room. When they are about half way down the hall all becomes darkness.

Harry immediately sinks into a fighting crouch, pulling away from Jeff who starts to search for him frantically. Harry shuffles off to the side, racking his brain to try to remember the lay-out of the hallway to the Common Room. He casts a darkness-piercing charm on himself and can now barely make out the walls. He sidles along one swiftly back towards the exit. In front of him a figure appears, hooded with red glowing eyes.  _ No! _  Harry freezes, looking around in the now slightly brighter hallway, looking for cover with one eye trained on Voldemort. His reason for being here is suddenly clear. Somehow, the soul he has trapped is not enough to kill Voldemort. The bastard tricked him. He stealthily moves to an alcove just behind the figure, carefully maneuvering so as not to attract attention. It seems to be working.

: Hello little snakes! Welcome to your first year. The darkness will be your friends at some point, but not right now, of course. Worry not, this is only a little test. Not that you will know what I am saying, of course.: Harry is so startled that he stops moving, wand trained on the dark wizard in front of him. Harry of course can understand every word… that doesn't mean however that he can comprehend it. What is going on::  _ Lumos rufus _ : Voldemort (?) says, and the end of his wand turns a bright red reminiscent of the stunning hex. Harry looks back at the students with one eye and notes them all frozen in terror. Harry finds himself again mightily confused. " _ Finite Incantatum _ ."

The darkness falls away and Tom Riddle stands revealed. He throws back his hood and looks at the huddled and frozen first years. "I am Professor Riddle. I am your Head of House. This was to wake you up to the trials that shall be asked of you in the near future. Slytherin must be sneaky and cunning. They must not freeze in terror at the mere sight of a cloaked figure in darkness."

"But it was scary!" squeaks one of the first years. There are some nervous chuckles.

"Indeed, as it was intended to be, now what…"

"Harry! Where is Harry?" Jeff cries out. Riddle's eyes narrow at being interrupted before taking on a look of mild concern.

"You lost him already?" Riddle sighs in exasperation. He has the look of a man whose dramatic entrance has been well and truly spoiled. "Harry, come out here, if you would. I won't have you lost before the first day is even over."

Harry stands up from his concealing crouch. No one seems to notice him; everyone is looking behind where the first years are still nervously huddled. Harry sighs to himself and pokes Riddle lightly in the back. Riddle whirls around in surprise; pointing his wand right at… he looks confused. Right beside the head of Harry? Harry has settled into another crouch, this time with his wand pointed at Riddle's head.

"Harry." Riddle says. "There you are." He reaches out a hand to Harry but Harry ducks back, wand still raised. "What's wrong, Harry. I'm sorry if I scared you. I should have remembered you were in the group." He looks over Harry's shoulder. "Severus, could you come take Harry for a second?" He turns back to the first years. Having his sworn enemy turn his back to Harry confuses him to the core. And Riddle seems… fond of Harry. Whatever is going on, he seems to be in no danger. Harry relaxes and sheathes his wand with a confused sigh when Snape comes from beside the doorway toward him. Harry allows the concerned looking Severus to take his hand and look him over for… whatever it is that he is looking for.

Riddle continues his introduction, rescuing his dramatic example from its tatters of glory. "Harry did exactly what a Slytherin should do. He found a strategic position and covered the enemy without raising suspicion." Harry can hear whispers forming. "Whether he did it on purpose or not is a moot point! The enemy can come in all forms. They might not be what you expect. Never underestimate them. Always assume that they know much more than you do. The ones who are 'idiots' are much more dangerous than the bravest Gryffindor, the cleverest Ravenclaw, the most loyal Hufflepuff, and yes, even the most cunning Slytherin." Riddle hisses, almost sounding as if he has slipped back into Parseltongue. "Plans can go wrong: usually they do so in a way that is completely unexpected. Put a Kneazle in a room with four exits and it will escape through a seventh. You all would do well to remember that Harry did not freeze in terror. He would be the only one still alive if that had been a curse. The only plan that you can rely on is that everything is going to backfire. That is why we are Slytherin; we exploit these situations with all the cunning we can muster. It is your destiny to be able to take any situation and use all the elements, friend, foe or scenery, to further your agenda. Never insult a stranger; you have no idea who they might end up being. You may have ruined an opportunity before it was even available. Remember that, little snakes. Our strengths and our abilities are not to seize assets from under the enemy's control: ours are to recognize assets that the enemy would not even recognize and use it to destroy them." With that Riddle spins on his heal and leaves, stalking out through the portrait that swings wide for him without his having to say a word. Harry has to admit to being impressed. Riddle turned what could have been a disaster into a very effective lesson.

"Harry!" Jeff yells, ignoring the prefects trying to herd them up to the dorms. Jeff skids to a halt right next to Harry. "Are you all right? Were you scared?"

Harry weighs in his mind whether to answer or not. They seem to think him some kind of retarded idiot. On the one hand, now they think him completely harmless. On the other, they think him an idiot and won't leave him alone to do the research he needs. Harry mulls this over briefly, letting Jeff rattle on to himself.

"I was so scared that I'd lost you on the very first day I didn't even notice Tom's scary display. Then again he does that so much back home that I…" Harry ceases to be able to hear what Jeff is saying, his brain seems to be cramping. Voldemort lives with this kid? Harry shakes his head and groans.

Snape squeezes his hand and pushes his hair back from his forehead to look Harry in the eyes. "I think we should go see Tom, Jeff. Perhaps this was all too soon. Harry hasn't been away from the orphanage since he was brought there by Mr. and Mrs. Riddle."

Jeff hugs Harry unexpectedly. To his surprise Harry does not have an immediate impulse to hex the young boy. If anything, the gesture seems… natural. "Harry!" Jeff laments, "I'm so sorry! I should have been paying better attention!"

Snape scowls at Jeff, making Harry feel a bit relieved to have some semblance of normalcy. "Jeff, stop that. We shall simply go see Tom before you two get sent to bed. We probably should anyway, he might have specific instructions." Snape opens the Common Room door and stalks out. Harry follows with a sigh and Jeff climbs through beside him. Snape looks back, but doesn't say anything. Harry decides to keep playing it dumb until he can get more information. Right now he has no plans at all and he can see no detriment to being so completely underestimated.

Snape stops up short at the intersection of two corridors. Harry walks up beside him and peers around the corner to see why. A woman with red hair and a man with black are arguing. Is she a Weasley?

"No, James, I will not help you out any longer. You are intolerably rude whenever I say anything. You already made me miss the Welcoming Feast and you know how I love to watch the first-years get sorted!"

"Lily, Lily! I am eternally grateful for your help on my research. Why, without you I would be lost!" Harry's chest seizes up. His parents! Although they don't seem to be getting along very well. Didn't they get married right after school?

"No, you wouldn't. You wouldn't have even passed your NEWTs. You are lucky that you befriended Remus, otherwise I would never talk to you." With that she turns with a huff and walks down the corridor toward the three of them. "Oh, hello, Severus." Lily says, smiling. She looks down at the two boys. "Oh and here are Jeff and Harry. It is good to see you in school, boys. Well, I have to run and make amends with Professor Flitwick, if you will excuse me?" She continues on past the three of them, pausing just briefly to whisper in Severus' ear, "I wouldn't mind if you cursed him a little bit, but perhaps we should save revenge for later. Wouldn't want the boys involved before they even start classes!" Harry looks after his young mother's retreating back. His eyes are starting to water. She's alive! How she and all the others could be mysteriously back from the dead Harry doesn't know. Perhaps he has died, and this is Heaven? No, then what is Voldemort's soul still doing entwined with his own?

"Snivellus, what did you do?" James snarls at Snape. "I was just about to get her to agree to spend more time with me."

Snape raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. "You were close to no such thing Potter." Harry twitches. "Why don't you go back to your mutt friend? Tell him the diversion was a success." Snape sneers. It is almost as effective as the one his adult self tended to sport.

James whips out his wand and so do Harry and Snape.

" _ Protego _ !" Harry croaks out, the shield deflecting James' curse off into a wall but deflecting Snape's right into Harry. He grunts indignantly as he falls over from the leg-locking jinx. The three other males stare at Harry while he dispels the curse and stands back up.

James brushes by them without a word the same way that Lily went. Snape dispels the shield and rushes over to Harry. "Are you all right?" He asks, reaching out a hand toward Harry's head. Harry jerks back but Snape adjusts his movements with the ease of long practice to feel along the back of Harry's head. "Good." Snape pronounces. "It seems that you did not sustain injury." He sighs and stands back up with an affectionate rub to Harry's head. "Don't worry about him; he's not an apprentice here like Ms. Evans and I are. You won't see him too often. He just visits that mutt, Mr. Black on occasion." Mr. Black! Does he mean Sirius? Snape leads the way down a short hall to the open door of Riddle's office.

Riddle looks up absently and upon seeing the three boys' smiles. "What are you three doing here?" He asks. Suddenly his expression clouds with worry. "Nothing happened to Harry did it?" He asks concernedly.

Jeff runs around the desk and hops up onto Riddle's lap. Harry feels his jaw dropping again as Riddle wraps his arms around the small boy. "Harry's not hurt, though he was in a battle! It was cool." Jeff adds, grinning. Harry closes his mouth at the odd look Riddle is giving him. "He was acting weird though. Severus thought that maybe he was scared of all the people."

"A battle you say?" Riddle asks, looking bemused.

"Potter cast a curse at us, Harry shielded." Snape summarizes, arms crossed over his chest. "He was hit when my curse rebounded, however fortunately was unharmed." Snape adds grudgingly.

Riddle looks over at Harry, catching his eye. "Are you all right, there, Harry?" Riddle asks, his eyes seeming to grow larger in his face. Harry immediately recognizes the non-incanted form of Legilimens and blocks it without effort. Not only had he had Dumbledore attempting that on him every day while at school, but he also had a fatal mental battle with this man, or…. One… Harry mentally shakes himself. With someone almost identical anyway. With that he finds it natural as breathing to knock the gentle probe away.

"Anything?" Severus asks.

"No, as usual." Riddle sighs. "His barriers are very good. I'm not sure I could break them even if I wanted to." Riddle runs his fingers through his hair. "Poor kid, he must have had an inconceivably hard first few years of life to need defenses that good." Voldemort looks saddened for a moment, then angry, his arms tightening protectively over Jeff's small form. "Come here, Harry." Riddle says, smiling at him. Harry hesitates but is propelled forward by a hand to the small of his back. He lets the push carry him toward his enemy with reluctance, but he senses no danger coming from the man in front of him whose soul is twined around his own. Or his… other soul? Harry leaves that thought for contemplation when he is alone. Voldemort wraps his arm not holding Jeff around Harry and looks him over. Harry feels that he should be panicked, but he only feels a sense of safety in the Dark Lord's arms. Riddle nods to himself once, decisively. "I think he'll be fine Severus. It is bedtime after all, and Jeff knows how to set the wards on the bed so that Harry isn't disturbed, right Jeff?" He asks, looking down at the small boy.

"That's right, Tom. I practiced real hard so that I could help Harry." Jeff grins up at Riddle happily.

"That's my boy. Yes, I think we made the right decision for Harry. He and Jeff get on so well I was leery of separating them. If there was a time for Harry to come to school it is now. If there are problems, you both can come to me any time. As Head of House I can settle whatever happens. And Jeff, you'll look out for Harry, too, won't you?"

"Of course, Tom."

Snape makes a contemplative noise. "Perhaps this is for the better that both boys got sorted to Slytherin, we can keep a better eye out for them."

"Yes, but likely we wouldn't have needed to if they were in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor like we thought they would. Ah well, what's done is done. Off to bed you two." Harry then experiences the very disturbing act of being hugged goodnight and kissed on the top of the head by Voldemort. Even worse, he enjoys it. It makes him feel safe and warm, something he hasn't felt for a while, or ever, really. Except that he has this vague feeling of safety covering the unknown months he has been here without memory. In a confused daze Harry lets Snape lead him out of the office and back to the dorm and into bed.

 


	2. Classes and old Prophets

Harry eats breakfast slowly, contemplating all that had happened during the night. He had been 'tucked in,' a process involving silencing spells and minor binding charms. Harry had easily disabled them of course, but the very familiarity with which Jeff handled them had been disturbing. He had waited in his bed, fingering the green and silver velvet bed clothes as he listened to the deepening breaths of the other children around him. Once he was sure that they were all asleep he crept out of the bed and tip toed into the bathroom. There he was shocked at the sight of himself in the mirror.

Harry barely looked like he had passed his seventh birthday, much less his eleventh. Even taking into account that he had always been undersized due to near starvation in his younger years one could not place his age much over nine. Shaking, Harry looked deep into his face, unnerved by the subtle differences he sees but cannot exactly place. His hair is slightly less unruly than he is used to, his face slightly longer, the nose a bit pointier. The real difference he note with horror. Leaning close to the mirror he sees that his eyes are now flecked with brilliant crimson. Gasping and choking back a cry he backs away hastily from the mirror. He stares at the mirror. From this far away his eyes appear brown, it is only on close inspection that it can be seen that his eyes are an unmistakable mix of his own emerald and Voldemort's crimson.

"Harry, you need to eat something." Jeff cuts into Harry's musing. With a sigh he starts picking over the breakfast tart without much appetite. Jeff gives Harry a concerned look before returning to his own tart.

"Here you go, Harry, Jeff." Harry accepts a sheet of parchment and looks up to see Snape smiling down at him. "Have a good sleep, Harry?" he asks. Harry looks back at his paper quickly, not knowing what to do in response. Apparently looking away is a typical response as he gets an affectionate chuckle and a hand squeezing his shoulder. "Make sure Harry gets to his special classes before you go to yours, alright, Jeff? The teachers have been told that you might be late."

"Alright, Severus." Jeff says around a bite of breakfast. He turns to contemplate his schedule.

Harry looks down at his own, wondering which house the Slytherins will be paired up with most often. To his surprise the schedule looks completely alien to what he is used to. Some of the classes are the same, here Potions, there Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures… but some of the classes are very odd: 'Wizards and Muggles' is new, as is 'Curses, Hexes and Jinxes' and 'Household Charms.' There are more classes in all, each seeming to be held only once or twice a week. The exceptions to that are Care of Magical Creatures which is every day including Saturday and Sunday and Household Charms which has a note on it saying 'rot. sched.' Whatever that means. Some of the classes have multiple professors and only Household Charms is separated by house. The others have notes on them like 'class: 11.' Harry looks at his paper in bewilderment.  _ Well, if I thought I would be bored it appears that I was wrong. _

"Come on Harry, we need to get going for our first class." The first class was in a huge room filled with cushions to sit on. Harry and Jeff picked a pair close to the front and waited while all the other first years filed in. Shortly after the last student has taken a cushion Dumbledore sweeps into the room, beaming indiscriminately at everyone.

"Hello my friends and welcome to Hogwarts. I trust your Heads of House gave you all a speech last night on the spirit of the House into which you have been sorted?" There is an affirmative murmur from the surrounding children. "Excellent. I am here today to tell you all about what will be expected of you at Hogwarts. I will periodically be teaching your Wizards and Muggles class, like I am today.

"Now, I know that some of you know nothing about Hogwarts beyond your letters, and some of you have been told horror stories about the school by older siblings and some of you have read  Hogwarts: A History  cover to cover." He chuckles and runs a hand through his beard. "I am here to tell you the truth, or at least confound you appropriately." Harry stares at Dumbledore. He hadn't believed it seeing him sitting in the Great Hall right where he always had, but seeing the old wizard up close brings home the vitality of the 'dead' wizard with renewed vigor.  _ He really is alive… _  Harry's mind races at the implications.  _ Dumbledore alive, my parents, McGonagall, everyone younger than they should be, in some cases younger than I remember being… _  His brain does a bit of a hiccup, but cannot help but acknowledge the truth.  _ Somehow- I'm in the past, and it's a past that is very different than my own. _  Harry refocuses his attention on Dumbledore.

"… Tom Riddle is the Head of House for Slytherin. Feel free to go to any Head, not only your own. Your house is the base for which we administer awards and punishments. Whatever you do will be reflected on your entire house, remember that. In classes you can earn points for answering correctly, for example, and loose them for disrupting the teacher. In addition there are two sporting events held each year that go toward your House points. As first years, you are unlikely to be in either, but fan support can also earn you points if you have a creative cheer or mascot!" There are whispers amongst the students. "The first event is actually a tournament that continues all year and that is the Quidditch Cup. Every House has a team that you can try out for. The game itself will be taught in Flying lessons and everyone will get to play against classmates in that class. The other is the Wizard Tournament.

"Every year all students are entered into the Tournament but only one from each House is picked. They become the House Champion. The Champion is selected by the Goblet of Fire." Harry starts at that. They have the TriWizard Tournament every year? And first years are entered? "Every third year instead of the regular Wizard Tournament there is a TriWizard Tournament where the three main east European Schools: Hogwarts, Durmstang and Belle Batons come together and compete. This is considerably harder and Champions for each school are picked from those who were previous Champions for their school. Next year will be a TriWizard year, I hope that you will cheer on your House Champion this year and the School Champion next year." Harry's head is spinning. Every year a tournament? Dumbledore winks at the assembled enraptured first years. "Of course, the best part of becoming a Champion is that you do not have to take the exams for that year. For years that the student has to take certification tests, that would be fifth and seventh years with the OWLs and NEWTs respectively, the student is privately tutored to take the test before winter break between the first and second tasks so that they are not distracted for the last two and more dangerous tasks."

Dumbledore goes over to the chalk board and taps on it. A yearly schedule appears on the board and he explains it. Basically the schedule is the same as Harry is familiar with. The breaks are all in the same places, the Quidditch schedule is roughly the same. The only major difference is where the tournament is held. The first task is coming soon, only half-way through the first semester. The picking for the tournament occurs in only two weeks. The second task is right before the Quidditch cup and the third right after final exams. "This class is designed to get everyone on the same page in regards to Muggles, that is, non-magical folk, and wizards. That is why it is your first class. After this year it is an optional class split into two days, one to discuss and analyze Muggles, one for wizards." Harry muses over that. A class to actually explain all the thousands of things taken for granted by wizards… and Muggles seems like a very good idea.

"Well that's all for today. I will show you to the Hogwarts Common Room where you can try out all the neat games and gizmos in there. The Hogwarts Common Room is the only place in the entire castle where Muggle devices will work. There is a Super Nintendo system in there hooked up to a television as well as a radio for the Muggles. In addition there are supplies of wizard entertainment like Exploding Snap and Wizards Chess. Follow me." Harry follows with the other first years to a room just across from the Great Hall. Like Dumbledore promised there is indeed a telly and a VCR and Atari system new this year. The room seemed equipped with anything you might want to play with as well as areas for studying and relaxing with friends. It seems like a very good idea to promote inter-House relations. Being so close to the Dining Hall is very convenient.

Jeff enthusiastically attacks the Atari along with some of the Muggle born, drawing a huge amount of attention to the telly from the wizarding children. Soon everyone is playing some game or the other with a white block bouncing back and forth on the screen. Harry stares off into space, thinking fiercely. It seems that somehow Tom Riddle had never become Voldemort. Would Harry's time have been so peaceful as this without the maniac reigning over everything? Children from all the Houses, interacting peaceably over a Muggle video game… it seems unreal.

"I can't believe they have and Atari here! My mom wouldn't let me get one when they came out. She said that they were too expensive." One boy says from in front of the machine.

"I know!" replies Jeff. "Tom didn't want to buy one. He said that he would work on getting them to work with the wizard viewers but that it was really a waste of money and time. I can't believe they got it working here!"

"Maybe we could figure out a way to get it to work on a wizard device from what the Headmaster already knows." A girl says from beside them.

"That would be very neat. Then maybe Tom will buy one for us." Jeff smiles.

Harry's attention is arrested for a moment when he realizes something. They are talking about the Atari like it just came out. But, it came out in the eighties, didn't it? Or was it the seventies? Well, that would explain why everyone is so much younger, Harry thinks dizzily. The clock on the wall chimes and Harry looks up at it. The hand is pointed at 'Time for your next class!' in cheery letters. The entire group of first years make their way out the school entrance down toward Hagrid's hut.

Harry rubs his eyes as he looks at the massive kennels surrounding the gamekeeper's house. From where he is he swears he sees a manticore, and that is definitely a herd of hippogriffs. Hagrid is standing on the lawn waiting for all of them.

"Firs' years, good to see yer. I'm Hagrid, yer Care 'o Magical Critters teacher. Now for today ye all will be in one group, but we'll split ye up fer the rest of the classes." Hagrid pulls a box from behind him with a grunt. "Now, these 'ere are magical rats." He lifts one out of the box. Harry's eyebrows shoot up at the size of the thing. "Ye will be responsible fer keeping 'er alive fer yer entire stay at Hogwarts. If yer rat dies through neglect or mistreatment, ye will fail Care of Magical Creatures." Hagrid looks over to one of the girls who has started crying. "Now, now, it's not bad. These fellas are real easy ter care fer. I'll be tellin' yer how to do it teday. In addition te the rats, yer will be assigned ter a group ter care fer another magical critter. There are six fer this semester. Ye will care fer one fer two weeks with yer four partners. Ye'll have to care fer all of them eventually. Once yer in a group based on critter we'll work out a time fer you ter be taught within this three hour period. The two an' a half hours yer not in class, on will be fer lunch and the other hour an' a half is fer caring fer yer critter. Remember! Yer critter always ets afore you do. If'n I catch anyone down here after they et lunch I'll be takin' points. Some of the critters need night feedin' too, so ye'd better be down here afore dinner as well. Now ev'ry one get in a group, don't matter who yer with, it'll change when we change critters."

Harry allows Jeff to pull him into a group comprised mostly of boys. There is one Ravenclaw girl, two Slytherin boys a Griffindor boy, and themselves. Harry marvels at the set-up for Hagrid's class. It seems that they will actually learn something from this class. Harry has never actually had to care for a rat, nor even really interacted with one except for Wormtail.

"A'right. Evr'n come up 'n' get a rat." There is a scramble for the box. Rats of all colors imaginable are pulled from the box: white, black, brown, orange, some are spotted, some have stripes or polka-dots. Harry is the last one at the box and looks down into it. Huddled in the corner hissing is a particularly scraggly looking brindle rat. "There ye are, Harry. Just talk to 'im. E's a particular one." Harry looks up at Hagrid dubiously.

"Professor, Harry can't talk." Jeff says from beside Harry. "Here Harry, you can have mine." Jeff holds out a somewhat timid looking light grey rat. "I'll take that one." He peers into the box timidly.

Harry shakes his head. He reaches down into the box, holding his hand in front of the brindle's suspicious red eyes. He looks at it, trying to give off soothing vibes. Nothing. Harry takes his wand out from his pocket with his other hand. The rat gives a squeak of terror and tries to press itself up against the wall as hard as it can. "Accio cookie." Harry croaks. He pictures in his head the sugar cookies that seem omnipresent at Hogwarts meals. He re-sheathes his wand and waits patiently, hand in front of terrified rat, until the cookie comes soaring from the entrance to Hogwarts. He deftly catches it with his wand hand. He reaches down to offer the cookie to the rat. The suspicious creature darts forward and snatches the cookie.

"While yeh two are getting' acquainted I'll tell how ter care fer 'em." Hagrid says. Basically all you have to do is take the rat with you everywhere for the first month to get it to bond to you. They can eat anything and appreciate all manner of left-overs from the dinning hall. They must have a supply of water at all times. In the dorm room there will be set up self-refreshing water bowls for the rats and all other pets brought to school. If the rat becomes sick, it must be brought to Hagrid or a Head of House immediately. "The most important thing is ter remember: give the rats their supp'ments ev'ry day! They have vitamins and other things in them that we'll go over teday fer why their important. Next week the'll be a quiz on all the in'gredents." The rest of class was a detailed analysis of the different components of the supplements. Hagrid held up the different parts in native form (either a plant, rock, whatever) and told them what pages to read in their text about the different supplements. The major part of it is a birth-control herb to both keep the rats from wandering off looking for each other and to keep the population under control. "Now ev'ry year someb'dy fergets and we get a litter. If yer rat is pregnant, bring 'er teh me. Ye'll get points off fer fergettin, but it's better than failing if I catch yeh with a litter or yer rat dies." At the very end Hagrid tells which groups to come when. There are about thirty-five small groups of four to six. Six groups get assigned to each animal. Harry's group has the animal for the fourth half-hour which means that they have the first hour and a half free as they don't know what their animal is yet. The rest of the class leaves for lunch, but Jeff and Harry stay.

"Yer rat still givin' yeh trouble then Harry?" Hagrid asks. "Once yeh get 'er teh come teh yeh, she'll be right loyal."

"Isn't there another rat Harry could have? You know he has problems." Jeff says worriedly.

"Nah, Harry should have this 'un. She's got problems too."

Harry looks down at the brindle rat, now sleepy after devouring her entire cookie. Harry slowly moves his hand closer. The rat gives him an ambivalent look. He scoops her up gently, bringing her to cradle against his chest. He strokes her nose right between the eyes and she sighs and snuggles into Harry's robe. "There, yeh see? They'll get on just fine."

"Come on, Harry, we're going to miss lunch." Jeff says, pulling Harry along with him back up the hill.

After lunch they have a class called Inanimate Transfiguration. Harry assumes that it is simply regular Transfiguration, but titled differently. He feels justified when they walk into the room to see McGonagall sitting at the desk in the front. As a cat, of course. Harry smirks but sits down with Jeff. They are somewhat early and thus are able to secure themselves a seat. The classroom is only half as big as it should be for a class this size. With all the first years it seems quite crowded. The last three students rush in and take a seat on a table by the door right before a huge black dog saunters in and shuts the door behind him. Sirius! Harry gasps, heart wrenching. Though Padfoot is barely out of his puppyhood, he is still very recognizable. Sirius barks loudly and charges to the front of the room, drawing all attention to him. McGonagall leaps over him, changing mid air. Gasps come from all corners of the room. Sirius transforms behind the professor, smirking.

"Welcome first years, to Inanimate Transfiguration. Working with inanimate objects is the first step to realizing your Animagus form. It is our goal here at Hogwarts that everyone who goes on through their NEWT level transfiguration is able to establish an Animagus transformation. Mr. Black here is my apprentice and will be assisting in teaching you all. We will be separating you into two groups, the less advanced group taught by myself and the more advanced group by Mr. Black. You might think this backwards, but it is easier to teach more advanced students. I will need to help those who are struggling more extensively. That is not to say that anyone from either class is not able to come to me for help. Both Mr. Black and I are available at any time to aid you in your studies. Now then, if the left side of the room will form a queue in front of me and those on the right form one in front of Mr. Black we will be giving you a short quiz to test your natural abilities." Harry was on the left side and stood in line in front of McGonagall. He couldn't help staring at Sirius though. The young man was laughing and joking with the kids, teasing them into answering with a smile on their faces.

Finally it is Harry's turn. McGonagall looks at him with a frown. "I think we'll put you in the slower group Mr. O'Donnell." Harry shakes his head, taking out his wand. She frowns deeper. "Very well then. Have you done Transfiguration before?" Harry nods. McGonagall's eyebrows rise. "Have you ever transfigured a thimble into a thorn?" Again Harry nods. "Very well then, we shall give you the harder task. Transform this thimble into a thorn, then the thorn into a hard black ball of wood and back again through the steps. Try to go as slowly as possible so that I can observe your technique." Harry points his wand at the thimble and starts to transfigure. The process itself is very simple, but he finds that slowing it down is amazingly tricky. He has to think about every step in stead of intuitively shifting the shape. By the end of the exercise he feels like he's learned more about how he thinks about Transfiguring than he ever had before. McGonagall is making a valiant effort to look both put out and astonished at the same time and failing miserably. "I suppose I should put you in the advanced section, you're friend Jeff is in there as well. I was just wary of having you somewhere I can't keep an eye on you." She harrumps and notes down on her sheet. "Advanced section, go sit back on the right side of the room."

Harry goes back and sits with Jeff who is grinning broadly. "Oh, I was so scared! I thought that you would be in the less advanced group. I tried to do the task she described as slowly as possible, but she still put me in the higher group! I never thought that transfiguration would be so easy." Harry rolls his eyes internally. Jeff, by trying not to be in the advanced group, had probably inadvertently put himself there.

Finally everyone was sorted. The groups are about even, with more Muggleborn in the less advanced group, which is to be expected. However a good third of the advanced class are at least half-bloods, if not fully Muggleborn, a fact that somewhat surprises Harry.

"Alright you lot, we're in another room. Follow me." Sirius leads the way out of the classroom to the classroom next door. "Just about all of you said that you had done or at least read about Transfiguration before, but I'm still going to go over the basics. There is never a problem repeating things, but there most certainly can be with skipping things." For the rest of the afternoon Sirius went over the basics behind Transfiguration theory, most of which Harry knew, but there were a couple things that were new to him either because he failed to pay attention during his fist time through or because they were discoveries not made in his time due to Voldemort. Inanimate Transfiguration took up the rest of the afternoon but they got let out early. "We may or may not get out early, it really depends on the day. Toady I'm letting you brats off easy. It's the first week after all. Now, your homework is to read the first chapter and write me a foot about the different analogies that the author uses to describe the essence of Transfiguration. Focus on one that really helps you and one that is completely incomprehensible. Tell me why they help or don't. Mention the others also, but you don't need to go into detail. Alright, scoot! You have an hour free before dinner."

No one left.

"What?" Sirius asks, hands on hips and cocky grin on face.

"Can you show us your dog form again Mr. Black?" A girl from Hufflepuff asks timidly.

Sirius lets out a barking laugh. "Why certainly!" He transforms swiftly into Padfoot and leaps around the classroom barking. He jumps up on the Hufflepuff girl and gives her a sloppy dog kiss on the cheek.

"Eww!" She squeals. Everyone laughs; even Harry lets out a croak of happiness. He slips away however while Jeff is distracted. It is time to figure out some more about the past.

Harry manages to get into the Library without incident. Madam Pince gives him a cursory look before going back to the fifth year asking her a question. Harry makes a beeline back to the stacks of periodicals and pulls a box down from the most recent side of the bookshelf. The latest _ Daily Prophet _  is dated August 30th, 1979. Harry gasps. It is a year before he is even born! Harry sits back against the bookshelves, thoughts whirring. How long had he been here? How did he go so far back in time? What in the world happened? First things first, he must find out why Tom did not become Lord Voldemort.

He takes out his wand and points it at the impressive array of Prophets. " _ Revelo _ _ Mentiun Tom Riddle _ ." Another handy spell he learned from Hermione, this makes all relevant passages glow a darker green for more relevant to transparent for not at all relevant. Harry's eyebrows raise as he looks at the impressive saturation of green in the magazine collection. Harry starts at the first one and pulls out a magazine dated June 1945. It is merely a list of graduates of Hogwarts. Tom is second in the class after one Myrtle O'Donnell. Harry is about to dismiss this fact before he does a double take. Miss O'Donnell is Moaning Myrtle! Suddenly it clicks in his head. His last name that they gave him is 'O'Donnell' … Tom must have married Moaning Myrtle. It is almost too ridiculous to contemplate. He takes out his wand and taps again the magazines, this time looking for mentions of Myrtle O'Donnell and Tom Riddle together. Again the glow is quite prevalent, but definitely diminished. Some books glow blue, indicating first search term only, and some yellow, indicating second. All the glow together seems to cover almost every Daily Prophet. Harry picks out the second magazine that mentions both of them, this one significantly after the first. It is dated in 1952. It is a wedding pronouncement. Harry closes the magazine and thinks hard before opening it again.

_ This past Friday a controversial couple has bound themselves in a traditionally Muggle manner. _ _ Thomas Marvolo Riddle and Myrtle Anne O'Donnell were united through the exchanging of golden rings. Mrs. Riddle's parents and grandparents weepingly gave their daughter over to the dashing Mr. Riddle but the Gaunts were conspicuously absent. No wonder after the denouncing Mr. Riddle gave in his sixth year at Hogwarts. Readers will recall that he changed his name and refused to go back to the family home. Riddle's mother is deceased but his Muggle father was present as was his Muggle grand-father. Time will only tell what these two anti-Pureblood activists will do once they return from their honeymoon in Muggle Greece. _

Harry stops there, jaw dropping. Tom is  _ anti-PUREBLOOD? _  What a complete turn around from his world. He cancels the search on Tom Riddle and looks up Tom Gaunt. Sure enough there are a few green highlights before the first from previous searches. Harry pulls out the first of these and reads.

_ Today allegations were brought against Marvolo Gaunt by his grandson Thomas Gaunt. Young Thomas, a seventeen year old sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry wasted no time in charging his grandfather with abuse and neglect as well as the use of Unforgivables. Tom said he waited to reach his wizarding majority and obtain his OWLs before saying anything due to fear of reprisal from his family. "I didn't feel that I would be safe until I was completely free of them." Tom says of his family. "This past summer really was the last straw. I was tired of being cursed for no more reason than my father is a Muggle." Reportedly Tom went to a professor of his at school with the information. _

_ Albus _ _ Dumbledore knew the laws of the Wizarding World and advised Tom to wait until his majority to testify. "I knew that there are some more ancient laws allowing this kind of abuse of children by their relatives. Though the chance was slim that Mr. Gaunt would bring these laws to light there are many on the Council at this time that may have used it to further Pureblood propaganda." Dumbledore said. Tom was incised to learn of these laws. "I couldn't believe it. Professor Dumbledore told me that even if they used the Killing Curse on me it would be legal!" Tom vows to not only get himself freed from the oppressive reign of his grandparents, but to avenge his mother's wrongful death and his own maltreatment by working to change the laws as soon as he graduates. Tom hopes to one day be able to rescue others in circumstances similar to his own and punish the Pureblood fanatics who would so abuse and neglect their children. "It's just sick." Tom said as he entered the courthouse this afternoon for the final descision of the Wizengammot. _

Harry sets the magazine down. So, Tom is still a zealot, but this time for the Muggleborn not against them and working for Dumbledore. All this because his mother had somehow ended up back at her father's and not on the streets with Tom in an orphage. Harry shakes his head. It seems unreal that so small a change could create such a difference. He picks up the next highlighted article. It is a short blurb about Tom with a lengthier article about the Gaunts.

_ Today the Wzengammot found the Gaunts to be at fault for their treatment of their grandson. "I'm glad we won this small battle, but I'm not done the war. Many others are in the same position as I was." Prof. Dumbledore is similarly ecstatic. Both parties are hoping this will set an example for the future that such behavior won't be tolerated. Tom, with the help of Prof. Dumbledore and his mother's diaries seized in the Auror investigation reveal that Tom's father is one Thomas Riddle. "I'm changing my name to Riddle." Tom says. "And I'm going to meet my dad. I don't want anything from him, I'm independent now, but I do want to meet him." _

_ The Gaunts were taken into custody and their assets seized. Sentencing is expected to be time in Azkaban of up to ten years. Tom and Prof. Dumbledore were disappointed but the law as it stands barely allows for that much punishment. In 1204 the law was… _

Harry stops there, not very interested in the laws of the time. He cancels the search and leans back, contemplating. Obviously this is an alternate universe to the one where he grew up. Tom did not go insane and start a Reign of Terror because of his treatment when he was younger but instead became a zealot in changing the laws within the Ministry. Why Harry was sent back to this time in particular is beyond him. It seems that nothing particularly important is happening this year. And to be honest, he doesn't know when he was found either. Could it just be a total coincidence? Harry sets up another search, this time for Harry and Tom Riddle. He gets hits closer to the present day. He pulls out an article dated in 1976, three years ago.

_ Boy found! Tom Riddle, founder of the O'Donnell Orphanage in Surrey today found a young boy while out on picnic with his wife, Myrtle. They say they were flying low on brooms over a grassy field when they spotted the poor urchin. He was covered in blood and was victim of several as yet unidentified curses. Not much is known at this time, but Riddle is furious over the possible torment of another innocent. Ever since his first rescue of a neglected child, one Severus Snape some seven years ago, Riddle has raided the mansions of almost all the prominent Dark Pureblood families. Incidence of child abuse and death in these families has drastically dropped in recent years, but the discovery of the young boy in such a state leaves Riddle weary. "I had hoped to end this sort of thing before any more were born into abuse, but it appears that my efforts are not enough as of yet." Riddle refers to the fact that the child is obviously less than seven years of age, indicating that he was born after the strict penalties for abuse were instituted and the barbaric old laws abolished. _

Harry looks at the accompanying picture of a small body wrapped almost head to toe in bandages. The small figure hardly ever moves except for pitiful twitches every so often. At his bedside are two individuals, Myrtle and Tom. Harry looks uncomfortably at the image before putting it back and reaching for the next.

_ Young 'Harry' today was released into the hands of Mr. and Mrs. Riddle. They offered no comment, instead focusing on getting the bewildered boy away from the Press before we could question him. Nurses from St. Mungos filled in the details. Harry was treated for multiple dark magiks, including but not limited to the flaying curse, the disemboweling curse and all three Unforgivables. Some of the curses were so horrible that they could not be positively identified. The work of dark witches or wizards unknown, poor young Harry unfortunately cannot tell us any more. The only thing that he can say are his own name and the incantations for several spells, one of which this reporter felt for herself and later had to be treated at the very hospital young Harry was just released from. _

_ This reporter took the injury in stride and used the extra time in St. Mungos to get the full story, such as it is. Apparently above being cursed and hexed the boy was also starved and physically beaten. Reportedly the nurses were afraid to go into the room when Mr. Riddle was presiding over the boy in the first days. "He was really terrifying, so mad you could feel the magic pulling at you." One nurse confessed with a shudder. One thing is for sure, if the person or persons who did this to young Harry are found, it will not be pretty. _

Harry smirks. How amusing would it be to see Tom try to take on himself. He might not even recognize that they were the same person. Harry sighs and puts all the magazines back. He has the story now, no need to dig further. He does feel a tinge of curiosity about Snape's story, however and reaches for his wand to perform another search. He gets a sharp nip on his wrist for his troubles. Harry jumps in the air, holding his arm away from his body, heart thumping. A brindle head pokes out from his sleeve, one red eye glaring at him. Harry lets out a breath of relief. He had completely forgotten about the rat. They eye each other warily. What in the world could she want? Enlightenment dawns as Harry's stomach lets out a protest for being too long without food. With a silent laugh Harry ducks back out of the library and dashes down to the Great Hall.

"Harry! Where have you been? I was looking all over for you. You've almost missed dinner." Harry sighs and sits down next to his eleven year old bodyguard. Harry's rat scurries out of his sleeve and goes to hang out with Jeff's light grey. They help each other devour a cantaloupe rind. "Don't run off without me, what if you had gotten lost?"

Harry ignores Jeff and digs into the mashed potatoes. He is hungrier than he would have thought. He pokes at a carrot just as someone larger sits down at his other side. Harry looks over at Snape and groans internally. "Harry, are you all right?" Harry goes back to eating his food, stabbing savagely at the carrot and sticking it in his mouth. A concerned Snape is apparently quite annoying. If he puts as much effort into keeping track of Harry that he used to put into harassing him Harry might be in trouble.

"Well, if you're rat is so unconcerned then there must have been no problems. Don't get lost again, alright?" Snape gives him a brief hug and leaves the table. Harry wonders about the cryptic statement about the rat. Are they not really to test the student's abilities in Care of Magical Creatures and instead some form of monitoring? If so, it's a brilliant idea.

After dinner they have a Study Hall, which for the first day is basically a lecture on how to use the library. Harry ignores the entire speech as he knows it all and is relieved when they are all led back to their dorms for bed. Harry falls right to sleep tonight, despite the many thoughts running through his head and the rat who keeps nipping him on the nose when he tries to actually use his pillow himself.

 


	3. Expectations

"I believe in a practical method for teaching dark spells." Tom says the next day in class, twirling his wand between his fingers. He looks pensively over the heads of the assembled first years. Like the other classes everyone is in one giant group. Around the room is the assembled paraphernalia for dueling, dark detecting and one metal contraption that looks like it would be used for pealing off your toenails or something equally pleasant. Harry of course knows that it is in fact for practicing dodging curses, but the first years are suitably petrified. The Slytherins seem to be holding up a bit better, having lived though one of Riddle's demonstrations already. They are still not sure if he's being serious or not, however. Jeff seems pretty tense and Harry looks between him and the almost-Dark Lord with apprehension. Snape is practically invisible in a dark corner of the room, looking almost as greasy and hateful as he had in Harry's time. "Of course, some spells are unfortunately restricted." He sighs gustily. "I do so enjoy the Cruciatus curse, for example." He grins maliciously. Those few who know the curse gulp audibly. "Oh, I'm sorry. There are some… Muggleborn among us. How rude of me. The Cruciatus is also called the torture curse. It makes one feel pain beyond all imagining." Riddle snaps his wrist, pointing his wand at the assembled first years. The bastard, no matter his purported high ideals, is just as sadistic as he was in my time. Harry seethes. He tenses and subtly tries to get hold of his wand. "On this, the first day… I think I should test you all for tolerance. Yes, that sounds like a plan. Those that can hold out for, oh, three curses? A hex or two? Yes, they may enter the advanced class. I did mention that the advanced class gets to cast the curses, didn't I? Who wants to be first to be tested? If you can name the Dark spells to be cast on you, I'll take requests." He waves a hand at Snape, who glides over in a slightly clumsy version of his old stalk. "It seems we have a randomized list. But I can take volunteers. Who wants to go first? No? I'll let you pass with only two curses if you volunteer."

Harry has a good grip on his wand now, concealed inside his shirt sleeve. He looks around at the assembled students, scared out of their minds. He stands up.

Riddle's eyes widen then narrow to slits. "Well, it seems we have a victim. Come down here, Harry." Harry marches down the aisle. He stops in front of Snape and Riddle, both of whom are smirking at him, an odd glint in their eyes. :Well, well. I should have guessed you would ruin my grand speech again, Harry. Just stand there for a bit and be a good boy.: Harry looks out at the assembled first-years. The Parseltongue has really scared them speechless. The look in their eyes is approaching panic.

"Please, sir! Don't hurt him!" All attention focuses on a Griffindor girl with a mask of bravado poorly covering her shaking. "He's… he's not right in the head, you know that! I thought you were against… against…" She stutters. "Torture." It comes out as a squeak.

"Oh, I see. You want to stand up for him. Does this mean that you volunteer to go first?" Riddle asks.

She shakes her head.

"Then you had better sit down before I hex you where you stand." He hisses. :Hopefully there's a riot. I haven't incited one yet pulling this stunt.: He chuckles darkly. Harry gives Riddle a sharp look from the corner of his eye and relaxes the grip on his wand slightly.

"No! I won't! It's wrong. None of us should have to be cursed." She says, chin quivering.

A boy from Hufflepuff stands up too. "If you try to curse her, I'll curse you!" He says, standing straight but looking ready to bolt. From the resemblance between them Harry assumes they are related somehow.

A Ravenclaw jumps up, too. "You don't need to be cursed to know what they are and how to defend against them!"

Finally a Slytherin leaps up. "You made the anti-child abuse laws! We won't stand for this." Harry sees that now the fear has flipped over to anger.

:Huzzah: Riddle hisses happily, a very odd sound to Harry's ears. It has never been spoken to him in celebration before. Excepting, perhaps, the snake at the zoo. Riddle drops his wand to the floor and raises his hands in the air. Most of the students look confused. "Congratulations class. You are the first ones to defeat me at my own game." He lowers his arms. "Would the four of you please come down here." They hesitate and he grins. "Don't worry, no one will be cursed today. The four of you get fifteen points each for your Houses, as do you Harry." He smiles fondly down a Harry, who is rather confused. If this keeps up much longer, Harry muses, I shall become quite used to being constantly stumped as to what is actually going on. "Now how did you four feel, why did you challenge me?"

The Griffindor girl answers. The four of them are standing together close to the class. "I was tired of being afraid. You gave us no way out. And it was too much to do that to an innocent boy like that." She says stubbornly. Harry almost snorts at being called innocent but manages to keep it contained.

"Were all of you afraid?" Riddle asks the class. There are nods and 'yeses' all around. "Too scared to move?"

The Hufflepuff boy says. "I've never been more scared in my life."

Riddle turns to him. "Then why did you stand?"

"My sister was in trouble. I needed to help her." He says defiantly.

"Very good. Another point to Hufflepuff." Riddle stands straighter and addresses all the students. "What I did today was a demonstration designed to teach you something. My little snakes have already had one such and I am sure they will tell you about it." There is uneasy laughter from the Slytherins in the audience. "I wanted to show you about fear. Cursing someone will cause this fear in them. Think about that before you cast a curse, for once you do, it cannot be taken back. Fear is effective, it can be used as a tool, but remember that it is a tool that can be turned against you. I was in control until these fine folks threatened me. Now I am the one disarmed. Fear can leave people with no place to turn and that makes them dangerous. Be careful and remember how it feels to be the one without power before you cast a spell on anyone. Remember, too, that even when, especially when, you are so scared you can hardly move, that is when you are at your most powerful. The essence of bravery, ladies and gentlemen, is not being fearless. Fear is, as I said a tool. It keeps you aware, lets you know of danger. Bravery is finding something more important to you than that fear, whether it be a family member," he nods to the Hufflepuff, "an innocent," he gestures to the Griffindor, "or an ideal. Remember that as we progress through this year." Riddle holds out his hands to each of the four and Harry in turn. "Thank you all for your bravery. Now, you can sit down."

After everyone has returned to their seats Snape comes up to Riddle and hands him a sheaf of papers. "Now, today you will be taught mostly by myself. There are guest lecturers that will come in on occasion, especially when we are talking about the various dangerous Dark Creatures. In later years you will meet vampires, werewolves and harpies, among other humanoid Dark Creatures. That is not for this year. This year will be, as Mr. Finley pointed out," he nods to the Ravenclaw again, "better served by learning the theory first before putting anything into practice. After we have a firm grasp on these we can start with the practical application. The advanced group might be able to duel sometime this semester, depending on how things progress. For today, however, we will be giving a demonstration of dueling and how curses and hexes are used in them. Mr. Snape will be helping me for that. First however I will pass out your homework for next week." Riddle accepts his wand back from Snape. "On these sheets I have written down one spell. You will submit an essay one foot in length on what type of spell it is: curse, hex or jinx, what it does and how to best use it in a duel. Be creative." With a wave of his wand Riddle sends the sheets flying to all the students. Harry looks down at his and shakes his head. Leg locker. He sighs.

"Now, last thing before the demonstration. Can anyone tell me what I was saying to Harry when I was hissing?"

Students shuffle and look at each other. One Slytherin raises her hand.

"Yes Ms. Rendell?"

"I don't know what you were saying, but I know it was in Parseltongue, the snake language."

"Very good Ms. Rendell. One point to Slytherin. For extra credit, anyone may turn in an essay on what a Parselmouth is, use any details you want. Alright, to the duel!"

Harry watches interestedly as Snape and Riddle set up the dueling table in the front of the room. Finally they stand facing each other on opposite ends of the table. "Alright, first thing to do is to bow to your opponent…" Riddle goes over the various intricacies of the beginning of a duel and Harry looks around to the other students. Most are very interested but some look bored by the introduction, Jeff among them. At the beginning the two take it slow, explaining all the various spells they are about to cast and how to protect against them. Finally Riddle pulls up his wand. "Alright, now Mr. Snape and I will actually duel." Harry perks up. It will be good to see where things stand in this world so far as dueling is concerned. After a brief bow the platform erupts into bolts of lights, the shine of shielding charms and all manner of hissing, growling conjures. Harry is disappointed. Perhaps they aren't really dueling with their whole attention as they need to be aware of where the children are, or perhaps they just don't really want to hurt each other. Either way, Harry has seen better duels between members of the DA. It seems that the first years are suitably impressed though. Whether this is due to their inexperience or if the duel really is representative of dueling in this time Harry is not sure.

After the duel the first years break up and split off into their respective creature-based groups. Jeff and Harry make their way back to their dorm to hang out before going down to Care of Magical Creatures. Harry flops down on the bed with a sigh and Jeff breaks out his Transfiguration text to start his reading. Soon the time is passed and it is time to head to class.

Jeff, Harry and the four others in their group join the other five groups to make their way down to the extensive stables. Hagrid is already pulling out a little cage filled with… creamy fur?

"'Ello! Ye all are lucky, ye get the easiest critter first. This is a Puffskein. Now, lots o' folks keep these guys fer pets, and these are one of the few ye can keep in yer dorms with you if ye want. They usually get along fine with the rats. Some of ye might have more than one Puffskein or have to share, let's see how many of you there are…" It ends up that there are six extra Puffskeins so every group gets an extra. "Now, unlike the rats, they'll not want ter stay with ye all the time. Whoever wants ter take 'em to yer rooms come get a tank fer 'em." Everyone wants to take the Puffskein: who wants to tramp down here when they can feed it in their rooms? "Now, since yer all're takin' 'em, ye'll need ter bring 'em back every Monday for me ter check up on 'em. Also on Monday I want you to bring a sheet with what yeh fed them and when you changed the tank, one entry at least per day." There really wasn't much to the care of a Puffskein, so they got out of their lesson before the half hour was over. Jeff and the other Slytherins volunteer to take the extra as they are all in the same dorm room. The other two readily agree and everyone parts amiably.

Next class is 'Dark Creatures' and then Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hagrid and Riddle are standing waiting for them in the classroom. Riddle steps forward to grab their attention. "This class is team taught. For Dark Creatures you will have many professors, but mostly Hagrid for this year. Professor Sprout, who you will not have met unless you are in Hufflepuff, does a section on dark plants and we will have guest speakers from time to time that will lecture to the whole school in the evening in lieu of class that week. For today, however, we will be setting you up in the advanced and in depth sections. We didn't get to that this morning what with the duel."

"Make up two lines, one in front o' me and the other with Prof'ser Riddle." Jeff and Harry line up in front of Hagrid. The big half-giant takes the children one by one into the next room. Most of the kids come out either cackling gleefully or really pale. Harry wonders what in the world could be going on inside.

Finally it is Harry's turn.

"Ok, Harry, now, the spell ter combat this critter is 'Ridikulus.'" A boggart! Of course! "Do yeh know what it is?"

Harry nods his head.

Hagrid scratches his head. "Well, let's just practice the spell then." He is obviously stumped as to how to get Harry to answer the question without speaking. Harry is beginning to see the advantages of being mute.

Harry waves an annoyed wand at the chest on the floor and pops it open. Hagrid pauses from taking his wand out from his sleeve to look at the chest in confusion. Harry spares a brief thought to the fact that Hagrid has a wand to begin with (no Chamber of Secrets, no framing the big guy) before his attention is full focused on the Boggart in front of him. What will it turn into? A dementor? Voldemort?

Harry looks as the mist coalesces and out steps… himself. The boy in front of him looks exactly as he does in the mirror. The waif grins evilly and takes out his wand. The eyes are turning more red with every passing second, the pupils becoming slits. His skin is getting paler by the second. Harry is watching himself turn fully into Voldemort. How to make this funny? Harry can barely think. He hadn't been prepared for this. "Ridikulus." Harry croaks out. The figure suddenly sports a furry kitty suit and a collar with the name 'Mrs. Norris' hanging on a pendant. Harry snorts. The red slit eyes work perfectly with the fluffy costume for a perfect Mrs. Norris look-alike.

Hagrid coughs. "Very good, Harry." He waves his wand to close the disgruntled Boggart back in the chest. "Yer in the advanced group, then." He adds, showing Harry out with an odd look. "Go over ter Professer Riddle's line then."

"Hello, Harry." Riddle says when Harry gets up to him at last. "Were you put in the lower class?" Harry shakes his head. "No?" Riddle frowns at that. He puts his fingers under Harry's chin and lifts it to look into Harry's eyes. Harry easily bats away the weak attempt at Leglimency. Is he even trying? Harry wonders. Riddle sighs and takes him inside. "Well if you are in the advanced Dark Creatures you will have to be in advanced Defense unless you are truly hopeless at it, which I doubt." Riddle looks at Harry for a long moment with his arms crossed. "I admit I did not think you would be doing so well here at Hogwarts." He sighs and turns around to gather something from behind him. Harry is still disconcerted to have his enemy turn his back to him. It gives him an itch in his wand hand to hex the older man. "Well here you go. This is a curse detector. You will be hexing this." Harry stares at the thing. A training tool for casting dark spells? An interesting concept and one that would absolutely be banned back in his time. It looks a little bit like a Muggle garden gnome, complete with little hat. "Alright, cast three curses, a hex and two jinxes on it, please Harry."

Harry shrugs and casts the first spell on the item. He notes that it turns blue. Hmm. Harry casts the next spell and the item turns green. Harry is intrigued. He casts the same spell again and the gnome turns intense lime.

"Different curses, Harry." Riddle reminds him.

Harry contemplates. It is not different curses that cause different colors, as the same spell had been different colors. Something tickles his mind from capturing the fifth Horucrux. Hermione had used crystals to get to it. The different colors meant different emotions. Perhaps this is the same? Harry casts the last curse while trying to feel as happy as possible. The gnome turns yellow-green. Harry grins and casts his hex at the gnome. It turns brilliant yellow. Laughing silently Harry casts a jinx. Again bright yellow. He regards the gnome, thinking of the Dursleys, who had had a similar gnome out in the garden where they made him work long hours in the summer. The basilisk inside him stirs with glee just as he fires off the last jinx. It turns a weird mix of crimson and bright orange. Harry hurriedly suppresses both his panic and the basilisk shaped soul. He trembles. Never am I going to deliberately feel anger again, Harry vows.

Riddle waits for a while without speaking, regarding the gnome still glowing slightly with a swirl of red-orange. "Harry, did you figure out what the gnome does?" Riddle asks him quietly. Harry gives a sharp nod, still preoccupied with the restless soul inside him. It hisses at him as he shoves it back down into his subconscious. Riddle rubs at his chest, a look of discomfort on his face. "Do you know how to make it black?" He asks softly. Harry nods again. Black is death. Yessssss the soul inside him hisses. Riddle makes a small grunt and looks at Harry with a mixed expression. "Can you turn it blue for me again?" He asks, rubbing his chest harder.

Harry closes his eyes and brings up all of the skills that he can muster of Occulmancy and quiets his thoughts. The Voldemort settles down inside him with a grumble. Bored again Harry fires off a charm at the gnome. It turns a lazy blue.

"You can go now, Harry." Riddle says, watching the boy leave with one hand still over his chest and emotions flitting over his face faster than even he can catalogue them.

Later that night, Harry is learning a charm for star watching he has never used before that makes them look just beyond his fingertips. I wonder how this works for looking at distances. He resolves to check that out later, however, the charm is light years ahead of anything he's ever used to look at the stars.

Meanwhile, a staff meeting is being held in the Headmaster's office. "Headmaster, I don't know whether to be proud of Harry, or worried." Riddle opens the discussion. "He has gotten into the advanced sections of all the different classes he has taken so far."

"He transfigures like he is in fourth year at the very least. I don't know what to think." McGonagall adds. "I was quite surprised that he had transfigured anything at all."

Dumbledore hums to himself, sitting back in his chair and sucking on a lemon drop. "Tom, is this communication usual for young Harry? Both you and Minerva have mentioned him responding to your questions the past two days."

"He does seem to be more lucid recently." Tom rubs his chest uneasily.

"Is something wrong, Tom?" Dumbledore asks him.

Riddle gives the older wizard a look that says 'later'. Dumbledore gives a slight nod. "When I tested him, it took Harry three spells to figure out the trick to the Intention Device. He was playing the different colors like someone who has been trained in Occulmancy."

Dumbledore sits forward in his seat. "Well, I want the rest of you to keep an eye on him this week. We don't know what this boy has been through and we want to help him as best we can." The other Heads of House nod. "Thank you for coming. Tom, if you would stay?"

When they are alone Tom speaks again. "When he was playing with the Intention Device, he made himself very angry. The gnome was almost blood red, but I think he scared himself. It was twisted with orange." Tom rubs his chest again in remembrance. "He made me uneasy myself. Something changed in his eyes, and I got a strange pain in my chest."

Dumbledore's eyes narrow. "Bring a spell recorder on you the next time you are near our young waif. I have a suspicion that there is more to him than meets the eye. No child can learn all he seems to know in less than ten years of life." Riddle nods pensively. "Tell that apprentice of yours to keep a close eye on him as well, we don't want to leave this to young Jeffery."

Harry comes back from the Astronomy tower feeling like he knows more about what the stars really are than he would if he'd continued on to NEWT level classes. He knows all the stars and constellations from the classes at his Hogwarts, but they had been limited to magical telescopes. The teacher had told them Mrs. Alice Longbottom had invented the charm only a few years ago as her Mastery of Charms thesis. Harry is glad that his friend's parents are still together even if his aren't and that they are not insane through overuse of the Cruciatus.

Harry stretches out on his bed, looking up at the canopy of green and silver and waited for Jeff to lock him in. Although the star gazing had been cool and the gnome thing fun, Hagrid's test had really thrown him off balance. There is a real possibility that he will revert to Voldemort if the other's soul can take him over completely. Even his pretend anger to change the color of the gnome made Voldemort stir within him. And this Voldemort would be stronger than any one seen in even his own world, with his reconstructed soul and Harry's own power backing him up. Harry had been noticing an increase in power and the disturbing habit he had started where he would just wave a hand or wand and cause things to happen without incantation. Not to mention the flashes of memory that are not his own. Harry curls up into a ball on his side and tries to fall asleep. The rat reappears from wherever it has been all day to claim the pillow again. Harry glares at her. She calmly stretches out on the pillow, looking far too large to hide in his robes all day without noticing. He scrunches down on the bed disgruntled, contemplating the rat.

Harry has a sudden thought that raises his eyebrow. Of course it isn't a normal rat. It is a brindle rat. Some of the others were polka dot. Obviously this is a magical rat. Harry extends a hand to the rat, who seems to be getting bigger as he looks at her. She hisses at him and he hovers his hand over her wary form. Suddenly shapes spring into his mind. He snatches his hand back quickly, but not before the coiled soul inside him identifies a list of spells. Engorgement, shrink, hide, record, report. The spells seem to be initiated by the rat for the most part except for the record, which is activated all the time, and report, which is activated from outside the rat. Harry panics, checking on the Voldemort frantically. The soul is coiled peaceably around his own, one lazy eye looking at him with an expression of half-hearted disdain. Harry lets the rat have the pillow, it isn't as though the bed isn't long enough for him to sleep at the foot. I have to start researching soul magic. I need to find better ways to contain Voldemort beyond just my instincts. With that he drifts off into a fitful sleep.

"Severus! Wake up, I can't get him to stop and he's going to start breaking down the shielding spells soon. Severus!" Snape wakes up groggily to the incessant shaking of his bed. He yawns and blinks blearily down at Jeff.

"What?" he asks muzzily.

"Come quick, it's Harry."

Snape grumbles and drags himself out of bed. As the assistant to the Head of House he sleeps in a room just off the Common Room to both enforce curfew and be available should anything come up. Snape mutters to himself about foolish first years and Heads of Houses who tell him to keep a closer eye on foolish first years the night before they have a screaming fit. Snape rubs his eyes and yawns when they get to the dorm room. All the other children are asleep except Harry and Jeff. "Go back to bed, Jeff. I'll take care of him from here."

"But…"

"No buts, Tom told me to handle anything that came up and you have school tomorrow." Jeff grudgingly gets back into his own bed and draws the curtain. Snape steels himself to enter inside the silencing charm. The second he is past the edges of the bed he can hear the screaming. Jeff did a very good job with the wards, for Harry is quite loud and thrashing. Snape takes a second to reinforce all the wards before closing the curtains and sitting up on the bed. Harry is muttering between fits of ear splitting wailing. He's saying that French phrase again, something about death and birds. Snape winces as Harry starts to just scream again. "Shh, shh, it's alright. You're safe."

In the dream Harry looks up at himself riding the basilisk and casts curse after curse upwards. The other he just laughs. :Pathetic weak fool: Evil Harry jumps down from the basilisk and starts to walk toward him, his red eyes glowing with unholy glee. Behind him the basilisk starts devouring Harry's friends: Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dean, Luna… :Did you think you could beat me? You cannot defeat yourself. Both of our eyes used to be brown you know, brown like our pathetic fathers. Mine turned red, hate: yours turned green. You know what that green is? It's the curse that should have killed you, should have killed me. We're immune now. Why don't you cast it on yourself again? Maybe this time we'll end up in a world that I rightfully rule with me in charge in stead of you. With your power added to mine, I shall kill that world's Voldemort and take his place. In fact, I think that I should do that here, don't you agree:

"Noo!" Harry wakes with a start, trying to fight free of what is confining him. His struggles still as he feels the comforting circles being rubbed into his back.

"That's it, Harry. It was only a dream." Snape says softly.

Harry bolts away from Snape, smacking his head on the wooden pole bracing up the curtains. His rat dives for cover at under the headboard as her spot is overtaken.

Snape sits up too, yawning. "It's alright Harry, it's just me. You were having a nightmare, a particularly nasty one it sounded like." He rubs his eyes and inches forward. "You good now, mate?" Harry blinks in confusion, trying to remember what his relationship with Snape is that he's calling him 'mate.' Snape scoots closer and gathers the smaller boy up in his arms. "I wish you could tell us what is wrong so that we can find the bastard who did this to you and gut him slowly." Snape says fiercely.

Harry chokes on a sob and starts bawling. Snape rocks him back and forward and murmurs into his hair. Harry clings to him like he is the last solid thing on the planet. Harry sobs out all his fear and anger and ends up feeling drained, only remaining awake and upright through his death grips on Snape's faded grey nightshirt. He quivers, panting, face buried in the front of the shirt. He feels wrung out but relieved. Getting all the pain out like this is significantly better than trying to keep it all in. No one has ever held him like this that he can remember, Harry realizes.

"There we go, you had a good cry about whatever it was. You're all right now. Here, let's tuck you back in, ok?" Snape moves to pry Harry's fingers off his clothing with little success. "Come on, mate, you have to let me go." Snape says, attempting to lift the fingers off one by one. Harry shakes his head empathically even as he yells at himself. You're not a child! Just let go of him, this is SNAPE, the one who tormented you for years, the greasy git that almost let you die by Voldemort's hands. Except it isn't Snape, not his anyway, and the truth is, even that Snape had come through for him in the end… hadn't in fact let him die. And right now Harry IS a child and something deep inside him doesn't want to be left alone and just wants to be held. "Alright, I'll stay with you until you fall asleep, but I can't stay here all night. We don't want people to call you a crybaby, or me a soft mothering fool for that matter." Harry just buries his head deeper into Severus' chest and relaxes finally into the murmurs and hand rubbing the top of his head. For the first time since this whole crazy thing started, Voldemort lies deeply asleep and barely perceptible underneath Harry's own soul.

Harry wakes up and rolls over, groaning. He rubs his hand over his scar but for once it is not the source of his headache. He hops out of bed, casually dismissing the wards as he does so and pads over to the bathroom. It isn't quite time to wake up and Harry can see the other boys sprawled out on their beds. It bothers Harry a bit that he doesn't even know any of their names except for Jeff. He has a vague feeling that trusting too easily will lead him to fall into another trick of Voldemort's. But unless Voldemort can fabricate an entire reality, then it is not necessary to have those suspicions, especially since he can still feel the Dark Lord within himself. If Voldemort can fashion this whole parallel reality than Harry doesn't really have a chance against him anyway. Harry sighs and turns on the tap in the bathroom, splashing some cold water on his face. It feels good against his flushed skin. He looks up in the mirror at his tired face, starting again at the green/red brown eyes and the unfamiliar face. His heart nearly stops in horror when he sees his scar, however. It had been hidden from sight the last time he had looked in a mirror, something that Harry usually found was a good thing. This time however it hid from him something perhaps more disturbing than the eyes.

Harry's scar is no longer in the shape of a lightening bolt: it is a somewhat blobby Dark Mark.

The scar itself hides the shape a bit, being white and somewhat irregular. But for someone who had seen the Mark more times than should be allowed, it is all too obvious. Harry flees from the mirror. Not stopping in the dorm room but running down the stairs and through the Common Room, Harry almost makes it out of the Slytherin House entirely before he runs head first into something that lets out a startled grunt and falls over. Harry can't see and for a moment he is afraid his eye correction charm has become disabled, but he soon realizes that he can't see for the tears.

"Harry?" Severus asks, collecting himself up off the floor. "What are you doing out of bed this early?" He picks Harry up and tries to set him on his feet but keeps a hold on Harry's pajamas when the boy's legs refuse to hold him up. He picks Harry up and carries him over to the couch. "Did you have another nightmare?" Severus asks worriedly. Harry grabs Snape's left arm and pulls the sleeve back, revealing an arm crossed by a few faint scars but utterly clear of Dark Marks. Snape snatches back his arm and pulls the sleeve back down. "What was that for?" He asks in a more Snapish tone of voice than Harry has heard directed at him since he got here.

Harry curls up into a ball at the end of the couch, sucking in lungfuls of air. So what if it looks like a Dark Mark now? There has to be a way to kill Voldemort's soul, not just to hold it. Harry will find this way and use it, then he won't have to deal with the Dark Mark on his forehead anymore. Harry jumps and almost screams when a hand lands on his back. It doesn't do anything for several seconds so he uncurls enough to turn and face Snape. The child in him wants to rush into the arms and cry himself silly again, the rest of him holds steady.

"You used to have a lot of nightmares, those first few years you were with us. Why are you getting them again?" Snape asks, clearly not expecting a response. "We all thought that you were getting better, you are able to respond to us now, you're doing better in school than anyone had any right to hope, but…" Snape sighs and lifts his hand.

Harry stares at Severus and contemplates. /I wish you would tell me about your past./

"My mom was a pureblood from the family Prince. My dad is a Muggle, he was really horrible to me when I was growing up, I had to learn how to block and cast curses just to keep him from killing me. He eventually did kill my mother, that was in third year of school. Remus told Dumbledore and that's how I ended up with Tom, you came a few years later…"

/Stop that/ Harry says again in his mind, panicky. Snape frowns and shakes his head, looking lost and unsure of himself. I can tell people to do things and they do them? Harry thinks, scared. The soul inside him chuckles evilly. Harry starts shaking uncontrollably.

"Oh, no, don't be scared. My dad's in jail now, he can't hurt you. Tom got the Muggle cops to put him through their system and he's in jail now."

/Why the Muggle system/

"Because the Wizarding laws weren't written at that time, Tom got them put through after my Muggle father killed my witch mother. There was a lot more support then since Tom was attacking Muggles instead of Wizards as the source of the problem." Harry squawks and backs away again. How is he doing the mind thing? To him it just feels like he is thinking to himself.

: It is a form of Leglimancy./ Harry jumps up from the couch. Inside him the basilisk stretches lazily. :It is useful when controlling minions. It is easy to do on Severus, even without his Dark Mark./ Harry turns and flees out the door, aware that he cannot run away from something inside his soul, but wanting even so to get away from anyone who could be influenced by Voldemort. Harry runs all the way past the Hogwarts boundaries and into the Forbidden Forrest, Disapparating with a crack and no idea of a destination. Maybe I'll splinch myself over half of England and kill the both of us. Oh, to be so lucky.

"Everyone just calm down!" Dumbledore's voice rips through the assembled Heads of House, professors and apprentices. "We need to calm down and figure out what exactly has happened here. Mr. Snape, if you would tell us again, without interruptions, please." He says, giving a stern look to the assembled Griffindors.

Severus takes a deep breath and begins again from the beginning, trying to ignore Sirius in lieu of being helpful in the search to find Harry. "He was upset last night, he had a nightmare. I helped him fall back to sleep," Severus ignores Sirius' snort and Remus' subsequent punch to the mutt's arm, "after he fell back to sleep I went back to my own room. Then this morning, about ten or fifteen minutes ago, he came down into the Common Room and almost knocked me over from where I was by the entrance charming the message board for the day. He seemed very upset, especially when I mentioned my father… then he just bolted out of the room. I attempted to keep up with him, but he was running so fast that I lost him before we were even out of the dungeons."

"Are you so slow Snivellus that you can't even keep sight of an eleven year old?" Sirius sneers at him. Remus growls at Sirius and he sits back in his chair again, pouting.

Tom rubs a hand across his chest and addresses the question indirectly. "We have seen in the past Harry's bursts of inexplicable speed. Usually he would not go very far before stopping and looking confused. Something must have scared him very badly."

"Yeah like Snape's face! Ow!" Sirius cows under the dual smack of Lilly and Remus.

"This is not the time for childish name-calling, Mr. Black." Dumbledore chides, none of his usual jovial nature in his voice.

"Don't worry, sir. I can ignore the barking of mutts." Severus says, only half-heartedly interested in the play of insults with Harry missing but feeling honor bound to compete.

"Hey, this mutt's nose is what's going to find this precious retard for you, Snivellus."

"Do not point fingers for your own defects, Black! You are just annoyed with him for not being enthralled by your infantile canine antics."

"Children!" Dumbledore thunders. "This is not productive."

"Does Harry have his rat on him?" Riddle asks, attempting to divert attention.

"He does, however the tracking spell is vague and intermittent. It is almost as though he is too far away to sense. We shall first see if we can find him by Mr. Black's nose." Dumbledore nods to Sirius, who smirks.

"I knew it was a bad idea for him to come so soon. The boy cannot even talk for goodness sake. And look at him now, he is clearly terrified of being here." McGonagall says, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Now is not the time for that, Minerva, as you well know." Dumbledore chides. "I would like this to affect classes as little as possible. As much as the welfare of Harry is of great concern, it would be unfair to the rest of the students to shirk on their education. Mr. Snape, can you handle the classes for this morning?"

"Yes, they are all advanced classes but we are merely going over syllabi today, but…"

"No, Severus, the Headmaster is right. He is my charge and I will look for him. You must stay and cover my duties until I return." Riddle turns to Sirius. "Mr. Black, if you would be so good." He turns to McGonagall "and you would be so kind as to let me borrow your apprentice." McGonagall gives a curt nod.

"I shall come with you as well, Tom." Dumbledore says. "I have the tracking charm for the rats on me." He turns to the other teachers. "If you all can return to your classrooms, I believe we are already running five minutes behind schedule. Thank you all for responding so quickly to this crisis, however." Dumbledore looks around the room. "Who has Mr. O'Donnell first period?"

"I believe I do, Headmaster." Slughorn says.

"If you would let him know the situation? He is probably quite frantic."

"Of course." Slughorn says with a nod.

"Alright then, gentlemen, let's go."

Sirius runs ahead down toward the dungeons, barking excitedly. The two older wizards trail behind him, discussing quietly to each other. "Headmaster, I think Harry is even more powerful than we initially thought. As he is becoming more aware of his surroundings I am beginning to fear that we will not be able to control him. I have never heard Severus talk about his past to anyone, that he should do so casually before us after seemingly spouting it at random to Harry… it is disconcerting."

"Indeed, you are right, Tom. I am also worried about these pains you are having. It seems every time young Harry does something particularly unusual you feel it." Tom nods and they say no more. Sirius in front of them has started baying. Shaking their heads they follow the teen.


	4. Desperate Turns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I could pretty easily go back and make this DH compliant. But I'm not going to edit a thing. Why? Because this chapter here is the first post-DH chapter but I was right on so many things prior to this I'm just tickled. I could go back and make another story, I guess… but I think people would then definitely never review instead of probably never review.
> 
> This story's background assumes that the Horucruxes cannot be destroyed unless put back together and that it took a long time (like 10 years) for Harry to get to a point skill-wise where he could kill Voldie. I knew this wasn't going to happen in canon, but I thought Harry too much of a pansy to get by with little help in only a year. So, there you have it.

Sirius comes bounding up, tail tucked between his legs. He transforms mid-leap and comes to a sliding stop in front of the two teachers. "Sorry, the trail just ends. I've gone in every direction for a long while, doing every search pattern I can think of, but the trail just ends right here."

"Why would that be?" Dumbledore muses, trying to keep frustration at bay.

"He wasn't taken away by something?" Riddle asks Sirius.

"No, no scents here but our own for hours and hours. I would still be able to smell him or something if he had been kidnapped, but nothing at all." Sirius sniffs once again, as if to prove there is nothing to be found. "It's as if he disApparated."

"Thank you Sirius, if that is what you smell than that is what you smell. Please return to Professor McGonagall, I'm sure she is missing you're help."

"Alright Headmaster. I'm sorry I couldn't track him for you." Sirius shrugs, looking genuinely discomfited. He transforms into a dog and bounds back through the edge of the forest back toward school.

Dumbledore pulls out the rat organizer out of his robes and frowns into it. "Do you see anything, Albus?" Riddle asks, looking around anxiously. "If something has taken Harry that cannot be smelled then I want to find him as quickly as possible before something happens to him. The Forbidden Forest is a dangerous place."

"I don't think you have to worry about Harry wandering around in the Forbidden Forest." Dumbledore says grimly.

"Why not?"

"He isn't here, he is at least 100 miles away according to this tracker."

Riddle looks affronted. "You can't be seriously suggesting that he Apparated? You can't Apparate within school grounds."

"Technically, Tom, we are not on school grounds anymore." Dumbledore says sadly. "The anti-Apparation barrier only extends so far into the forest."

"Are you saying that Harry can Apparate?" Tom says, repeating himself as his mind tries to either come to grips with the fact or try to find a way around it.

"Get out of my head!" Harry yells in a scratchy voice.

/:I would point out that you brought me in, but I suppose it is useless to try to reason with you.:/

"How did you wake up? I had you suppressed… I did! I saved the world…"

/:Oh please, boy. I have survived half your life as a disembodied spirit. You did not actually believe that idiot prophecy, did you?:/

"But…"

/:Get a hold of yourself. Until I can find a way to oust you from your body we're going to have to get along.:/

"Why in the seven hells would I want to get a hold of myself to help you kill my own soul?" Voldemort seems inordinately pleased by this pronouncement.

/:That's much better, now we're thinking like a proper Slytherin.:/

"I'm not a Slytherin!"

/:Don't try to lie to me, fool, our very souls are connected.:/

"Fine. But I am as much a Gryffindor as a Slytherin and I will rid this world of you even if I have to kill myself." Harry feels a burst of emotion from Voldemort that seems suspiciously similar to eyes rolling. Reviewing what he just said, some part deep down inside where he can easily deny it he admits that the statement had been a tad over the top.

/:I admit that would be somewhat annoying, but I am a full soul now. Nothing would prevent me from possessing someone else. In fact, that would likely be easier. You have become quite adept at blocking my attempts to overthrow you, even while asleep. Be my guest, kill yourself.:/

Harry has nothing to reply to that. Voldemort, as much as Harry hates to admit it, has a point. He feels a bitter irony that Voldemort has just convinced him not to kill himself. He crosses his arms and pouts.

/:Very mature, Harry.:/ Voldemort notes, his soul sneering as only a basilisk can.

"Fuck off. I'm not even eleven. I can sulk if I damn well please."

/:Quite the mouth on such a youngling.:/ Voldemort slithers down lower into Harry's mind again before Harry can gather himself to shove him down by force. /:Try to keep a lower profile, if you can possibly manage. I don't feel the need to be labeled a Dark Lord in this world because of your foolish mistakes. I would rather do that by my own merit.:/ Voldemort's basilisk soul chuckles darkly as it slips back out of immediate consciousness. Just before he becomes a mere tickle in the back of Harry's mind he adds/:They are coming, do try to act innocent. And if you are going to usurp my skills at least use them to advantage.:/

"Oh hell."

oOoOoOo

"We're almost to him now, the reading is quite close." Dumbledore says, looking down at the stuffed rat which is the illustrious 'rat tracker.' Riddle sniffs disgustedly at the Headmaster's choice of object for enchanting. "Yes he should be…"

"Harry!" Tom cries, rushing forward to scoop the stunned boy into his arms. Harry is too shocked to do anything but hold stiffly still as Tom hugs him tight to his chest. "Oh I thought I had lost you! Don't do that again, you almost killed Severus with the guilt." Harry feels Tom stroking his head and back, rocking him gently in his arms but can't really believe it. Not only is this the second time he's been held like this that he can remember (first being Snape of all people) but it is surreal to be held by the man who's other soul is you mortal enemy and is chuckling to itself in the very bottom of your own soul. "Let's take you back to Hogwarts, alright?" Tom stands, still holding a shocked and somewhat uncomfortable Harry. Harry submits to the comfort as there is nothing he can think of to solve his myriad problems. Voldemort at least has agreed to be quiescent for the time being. Harry muses that there really isn't anything he can do at this point as anything he plans will immediately be known by his enemy anyway. He needs to do a significant amount of research to try to discover some means to kill a soul inside the researcher's body when said soul is impervious to the killing curse. Harry groans in despair.

Tom hugs Harry and hisses into his ear. ::It's alright little one, I shall be sure to kill whatever evil thing has you so tormented.:: Harry lets out a choked sob. He decides to ignore that Riddle is cuddling him as likely this man is the only one in the dimension who is likely to be able to withstand Voldemort's attacks through Harry's body. Well, Dumbledore can probably hold his own as well. Harry looks over at the older wizard and is not entirely surprised to note the contemplative look on his face. Harry almost absently bats away Dumbledore's Leglimency but is amused at the startled look the Headmaster quickly hides.

Instead the Headmaster puts his hand on Harry's shoulder, making him flinch. Tom hisses comforting, well, snake-comforting things in his ear as Harry's brindle rat scurries up to sit on the Headmaster's hand. Dumbledore points his wand at the creature who has grown to the size of a large cat in order to sit on the Headmasters hand and still wrap her tail around Harry's neck and casts a wordless spell that Harry nonetheless recognizes.  _Report_ Voldemort reports in the back of Harry's brain. He lashes out but the giant snake slips out of his reach into his subconscious.

"He's missed Potions it seems." Tom says, thinking aloud. "Likely we should just put him in the lower section. I'm sure that Jeff did not get into Advanced as he is rather pathetic at Potions and Harry never showed any inclination to work with Severus when he was brewing something. Well, except to banish the contents of the cauldron of course." Tom chuckles.

"That will likely work just fine." Dumbledore answers absently, engrossed in reading the information reported by the rat. Harry resolves to look at what she is recording the second that he is alone again. Which, judging by how much they seem to be overreacting, might not be for a while.

"We'll get you lunch in my rooms and then you can catch up with Jeff and your housemates after they get out of class, which shouldn't be to long from now. Slughorn was not intending to keep them for much longer than an hour in the afternoon I don't think and it's nearly one thirty now." Tom strokes Harry's head and Harry sighs into his shoulder. Life is supposed to be less complicated after death, not more so. Harry frowns in confusion. That is, you aren't alive after death and thus cannot have a life… but… his head starts to hurt and he gives it up as too much effort to think about on too little sleep. /Maybe this is hell/. Harry thinks pessimistically.

Dumbledore takes his hand from Harry's bony shoulder and the rat disappears again into the boy's robes. "He did Apparate out here." Dumbledore says grimly. "It's a wonder he didn't splinch himself." /Too bad I didn't you mean./ Harry thinks to himself.

"When did he learn something like that?" Tom asks. "Could it have been accidental?"

"No. We'll discuss this later." Dumbledore says with an air of finality. Harry wonders if the old man is on to him. He does have a suspicious gleam to his eye hiding behind the automatic cheerful twinkle.

"I still think it might be, it would explain how Harry ended up here the first time."

The first time? Harry wonders. He looks around and with a sickening twist to his stomach he realizes that he had Apparated to the battlefield where he… what? Died? Defeated Voldemort? Failed in everything?

"Let's just take young Harry back, he needs to eat something after this stressful morning and it is no good for any of us to be out here in the cold." Dumbledore says, smiling sadly. Harry starts as he realizes that it is in fact a bit chilly and that before the Headmaster mentioned it he had not even noticed. /Just because it seems like this is a peaceful time does not allow you to let your guard down!/ Harry admonishes himself. An amused snort comes from the edge of his consciousness and Harry lashes at it viciously without success. "Would you be so kind as to Apparate us back, Harry?" Dumbledore asks Harry calmly, eyes expectant. Harry is so dumbfounded that Dumbledore would be so blatant in trying to expose him that all he can do is stare at the older wizard.

"Don't you think that is asking a little much, Albus?" Tom says, his voice thick with disapproval. "I shall take my ward back now." With that the bemused Headmaster disappears with the alternatively future battlefield in the lurch of Apparation. They reappear just outside the Hogwarts gates and Harry pops his ears with a yawn to equalize them from the pressure change between the lowland valley of Ireland and the highlands of Scotland. He prepares to be put down but Tom shows no inclination to let Harry continue the trek under his own power.

By the time they reach the entrance to Hogwarts, Harry has begun to have serious doubts as to whether he should let himself be brought back into contact with other people. It is obvious that he has no control whatsoever over Voldemort's soul and the evil bastard has displayed a disturbing ability to take over the minds of other people, children especially. Harry shudders to think what might have happened to Ginny if Harry had not defeated the first Horucrux in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry's thoughts abruptly detour: whatever happened to the Chamber in this time? Does Tom even know about it?

Harry pulls out of his musing to a sound so subtle and familiar that he almost didn't hear it at all, even though Tom is making no efforts to hide that he is hissing obscenities about daft old wizards. :: …I have been taking care of this child for over three years and he decides that because a few weird things start to happen that all of the sudden the poor thing is some sort of evil being visited upon us!:: Harry winces again. Tom looks down at him in concern. ::It's obvious that he is terrified, and a bit of fast running and Apparation is the least odd thing the sprite's done since we brought him home!:: Harry sighs mentally. I can't believe I'm worse half-comatose… He groans to himself. Harry pokes into his subconscious but Voldemort seems to be keeping his word and staying out of sight, something that serves to unsettle rather than reassure. Harry yawns. It was a long night without much sleep. He settles back onto Tom's shoulder and half-dozes to the sound of hissed insults for the trip back to Tom's apartment.

oOoOoOo

"I've put him back in bed and set the wards myself this time." Tom says, letting the door to the first year's dorm close softly behind him. "He seems exhausted. And no wonder with all the magic he was using." He sighs. "I reactivated the Port-Key homing charm on his necklace. We haven't had to use it in years, but considering the circumstances…"

"It's for the best, Tom." Dumbledore says, his eyes hard. "Would you care for some tea in my office?"

Though not particularly thirsty, Tom understands the real request and nods.

Once the door to the Headmaster's office is closed Tom makes sure that the wards raised and Dumbledore sinks into his chair and steeples his hands.

"Just tell me what you've found." Riddle says, wearily sinking into one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"Have you been keeping the monitoring spell on yourself?" Dumbledore asks instead of answering.

Tom frowns. "What is this about, Albus."

Dumbledore sighs.

"Is it the spells he has been casting?' Tom sits forward in the chair, intent. "You know he's been casting all manner of dark spells since the day we found him. Merlin's Balls! In St. Mungo's he cursed five nurses and a particularly annoying reporter with spells we've never even seen before."

"Look at this, Tom." Dumbledore says, pushing the rat across the desk.

Riddle frowns, picking up the floppy toy and staring it in its smiling eyes. A few minutes later he looks up. "Merlin."

oOoOoOoOo

Harry feigns the boneless sleep of the child he is supposed to be in order to get the two older wizards to leave him in peace. Riddle had activated something innately magical around his neck before leaving. Though intensely curious as to what it could be, Harry calms himself both to continue fooling Riddle and so as not to rouse Voldemort into telling him.

Finally alone, he strains to hear the two wizards behind the door. Dumbledore's mention of tea only makes Harry more frantic to find out what his rat has seen. He pulls her out from inside his sleeve, holding her gently as she squeaks. He looks deeply into the magic around her, making sure to not even inadvertently draw upon the power in the coiled basilisk slipping curiously just beneath where Harry can lash at it.

/Report./ Harry commands the rat silently, hoping his not knowing any incantation that would go along with the command will not deter it from working.

The rat looks up at him pleasantly, twitching her whiskers before rubbing her nose with her paws. No information is forthcoming.

/:It seems you are in need of assistance.:/ The basilisk chuckles, slipping in and out of the edges of Harry's reach.

/I don't need any help from you./ Harry shouts back mentally.

/: Repono:/ Voldemort hisses before curling up and seeming to fall asleep.

Harry ignores the other soul sullenly and tries to forget the incantation, but nearly an hour later he has to acknowledge that without more research he has no way of unlocking the rat's secrets.

It's try Voldemort's suggestion or sneak out to the Library and hope that Dumbledore has another child he is trying to guide through some convoluted path to being a pawn making him leave advanced books lying around. Harry doesn't need the Dark Lord's amusement sifting up through his soul to realize that is incredibly unlikely.

Feeling like his morals are slipping dangerously he growls out the incantation. "Repono." Information rushes into his mind. Most of it he understands, though he is concerned about the depth and detail of the litany of spells he has cast in the past day. The other information, though…

/:It's a magical signature monitor!:/ Harry attacks the basilisk gleefully as it raises up. Each attack on it brings blinding pain to himself, as well.

"What have you done to me?" Harry grates out.

/:Nothing you have not done yourself, you fool. Look at the information!:/ Understanding dawns in Harry's mind reluctantly but completely. The rat has been watching his aura and has seen the wild vacillations of it as their two souls battled. It also recorded Harry's end of the argument they had just had.

"No." Harry whispers.

/:We need to get out of here. They know!:/

Panic overcomes Harry and he is out of the bed and half-way through the door before he stops.

/I'm taking orders from Voldemort./ He thinks incredulously.

/:Harry, it is to preserve yourself. They will try to fix you, who knows what will happen.:/

Harry climbs back into bed, for once seeking out contact with Voldemort's soul to try to tease the motivations out of the reptilian façade. Voldemort glides slowly through Harry's consciousness, giving nothing away.

Harry puts his head in his hands, thinking furiously and trying to keep his thoughts behind a shield of Occlumancy as Voldemort seems to do so easily.

The obvious answer is that Voldemort is trying to get him to run away for his own purposes. Perhaps alone, he will be able to take over? Or perhaps Voldemort fears this dimension's Tom Riddle as being able to 'cure' Harry?

Or maybe Voldemort is trying to get Harry to think that, when in actuality being alone would allow Harry to master the other pieces of the soul…

"Arg!" Harry yells, grabbing his head in his hands. How is he supposed to know which way to turn? He has the potential to lose the Dark Lord on a completely unprepared and seemingly almost idyllic alternate universe. But there is also no guarantee that on his own he will be able to come up with anything any better than what Dumbledore and Riddle might figure out. There isn't even a guarantee that the materials needed to figure it out even  _exist_  in this reality. It's entirely possible that there is no research on soul magics at all.

/:It seems that you have no choice but to trust them, then.:/ Voldemort adds helpfully. Harry almost punches himself in the face. The only thing stopping him is the fact that ha is the one in control of the body and thus it would hurt him more than the other.

oOoOoOoOo

"What are we going to do?" Riddle asks, sinking deep into the chair as his energy leaves him entirely.

"There's more, Tom."

"What? How can there be more? The boy has a broken soul!"

"A wizard cannot see this own signature, of course, but for others it is an immutable and unmistakable part of his being." Dumbledore intones, looking down his crooked nose at the younger man.

"Yes, of course, Albus." Tom replies, puzzled.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" The older wizard asks.

"No." Tom replies, becoming anxious. The headmaster asked him the same question the night he was going to commit suicide to escape his relatives. He had an answer then, as well as an idea at what the old wizard was getting at. "What did you see in that rat? Do you know who did this to Harry?"

Dumbledore sits back and steeples his fingers. "When did you first attempt to make a Horucrux, Tom?"

oOoOoOo

Harry stares at the rat. She stares back. Finally she loses interest and curls up on the pillow. /How am I supposed to avoid her detection spells?/

/:Except for the dialogue, it doesn't really matter, does it.:/ The basilisk muses, coiling intricate designs in Harry's mental landscape now that the younger wizard has stopped suppressing it in an attempt to get a glimmer of its purpose.

/So I suppose you can hear my thoughts, then./

Voldemort ignores Harry and begins a coil looking vaguely like a Blast-Ended Skewt. /:It's an owl.:/ The basilisk hisses angrily.

/I'm sorry to offend your artistic sensibilities./ Harry replies sarcastically.

Harry ignores the other soul and tries to think of what he should do. It seems like he should do something, not just wait around for the two older wizards to come and lock him away somewhere they can run experiments on him.

"Well, I might as well go to them, then." Harry says ruefully. He scoops up the rat, disables the wards with little effort, and heads to the Headmaster's office.

/:That is a great plan, Harry.:/ the basilisk adds with no inflection at all.

/Stop agreeing with everything that I'm doing! It makes it very hard for me to decide what to do!/

/:Is that so?:/ Voldemort replies with a hint of humor.

Harry grinds his teeth all the way to the Headmaster's office. He is so irritated he just waves the gargoyle aside, storms up the steps and flings the door open and stalks inside.

"Harry!" Come the surprised exclamations from both wizards sitting in the office. Dumbledore twinkles at Harry until the Leglimancy is quite heavy upon Harry's thoughts. Harry darts aside Dumbledore's spell and scoots into the old wizards mind instead, tired of the games and needing to know what the other is thinking. He immediately runs into the Headmaster's certainty that Riddle had made Harry a Horucrux. The twisted irony of the accusation makes Harry want to laugh, but he restrains himself. This world's Riddle is an almost sickeningly pure do-gooder who would have nothing to do with that sort of twisted magic. The meddling old codger is much more likely to do something horrific, "for the greater good." Rage builds as Harry remembers how Dumbledore made him leave school for the holidays to go back to the orphanage run by his uncle and… Harry breaks the connection with the Headmaster, shuddering.

A groan right in his ear makes him jump and he turns to look at Tom's pained face as he clutches his chest. Harry is slightly bemused to be back in the man's lap without consciously moving there, but is more worried about the man's health. He looks quite pale and almost as though he is going to be sick.

Dumbledore stands, his face a mask of fury. "And with that display you still would deny that the boy is a piece of your soul?!"

Riddle coughs and seems to recover some as Harry looks on at him with deep concern. He tries to answer Dumbledore but can only shake his head.

"Very well." The Headmaster says with sad but righteous resignation. "With such overwhelming evidence I have no choice but to summon the Ministry."

Harry's mouth drops open. Dumbledore would abandon Riddle so easily?

/:Do something, boy! We cannot be taken as a Dark Artifact!:/ The basilisk hisses, whipping through the depths of Harry's consciousness.

/That's what I am, though, isn't it?/

/:You fool!:/ The rage burns within him, almost breaking through Harry's resolution. /:You would leave my counterpart to the Ministry as easily as Dumbledore? You who know his innocence?:/

Harry gasps and turns to look at Riddle, who is now panting softly, his head flopped against the chair with a wince on his face. /No!/ Harry isn't sure why, but a deep well of concern opens up as he looks at the older wizard. Riddle seems to recover as Harry lets it overwhelm him.

Harry whips around at the sound of powder being drawn from a jar.

"No!" He grates out, his voice almost breaking even on that one word. He coughs to clear his throat. Dumbledore turns slowly, his wand at the ready.

'"What was that?" He asks dangerously.

"Tom didn't make me into a Horucrux. He has nothing to do with the mess my soul is in." Harry rasps.

"Harry?" Riddle asks weakly, his hands hovering over the boy's frame, unsure.

Dumbledore narrows his eyes, but with the pronouncement the anger has dissipated enough that Harry can see the sadness and fear lurking behind it. Harry actively blocks himself from Legitimizing the man again. "How do you know about that?"

Harry sits up and gets off of Tom's lap. He doesn't feel comfortable revealing himself curled up in the man's arms. /:You shouldn't feel comfortable revealing yourself at all.:/ The basilisk hisses, but the other soul's voice is low enough in his subconscious that he can easily ignore the comment.

"I can explain." Harry says with a sigh, knowing that while true, it will take quite a bit to convince the others that his explanation is true.

"You are a Horucrux?" Tom asks weakly, both because he is recovering from his chest pain and because he doesn't want to believe it.

"Yes." Harry croaks out despairingly.

"And you  _are_  the Horucrux of Tom Marvolo Riddle." Dumbledore adds, with a bit of doubt creeping into his conviction. "Your auras are the same. And you cause him physical pain to his own magical core whenever you are near him."

"Only recently." Riddle adds.

/Oh Merlin! I've been making him so ill?/ At the rush of horrified concern Tom picks up considerably. /No… Voldemort is./

"There is no doubt with the evidence. Two people cannot have the same auras." Dumbledore says, with more conviction. He makes as if to throw the powder in the fireplace again.

"I am the Horucrux of  **a**  Tom Marvolo Riddle, but not this one. I was formed by the one that calls himself Lord Voldemort." Harry says. His throat is beginning to hurt from talking so much. That or Voldemort is sabotaging his body from within in an attempt to get him to shut up.

Dumbledore turns around, still angry but now more puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Harry sighs, rubs his eyes tiredly and just says it. "I'm from another dimension. One in which Tom Riddle hated Muggles so much that he started a war against them. A sick, sadistic war that killed many innocents."

"I did that…" Tom says, looking faint again.

Dumbledore walks over to Harry and looks down at him disapprovingly. "How long have you been in control of yourself." It is a question, but stated as a demand. Harry is surprised at how to the point this Dumbledore is, but perhaps he shouldn't be. The man had steeled himself to turn in a dear friend. Harry calculates the best way to answer. "It's been at least since the Sorting." Dumbledore says, staring at Harry until the pressure of the Legilimency is almost too annoying to put up with. Harry is again shocked, and now wary. He looks away from Dumbledore, if nothing else to escape the pressure, but also to try to think of something to say, of what to do. For once the soul inside his is silent, expectant. Harry wishes it would say something so that he can have something to react to.

Tom comes to his rescue. The man drops to a knee in front of him, putting his face on level with Harry's. A gesture that should feel patronizing but instead is comforting. "Those curses when we found you- some of them had very nasty temporal and essence-ripping properties. Do you think the combination…"

"Threw me here?" Harry closes his eyes. "That or the Avada Kedavra." He opens his eyes in time to see Riddle and Dumbledore both stiffen at the reference. Harry smiles ruefully. "It seems so odd to have people react so strongly to it. It almost seems like a joke after how many times I've been hit with it and lived." He looks at his hands, small and soft like the child his body is. "In a manner of speaking."

"Oh, Harry." Tom says, compassion in his eyes.

"And why should we believe you?" Dumbledore asks coldly. Harry curses being back in the old man's bad graces. It never made life any easier to have the meddlesome old coot hovering over his every move. Harry gasps the same time that Tom does. Harry looks over him unhappily to see Tom clutching his chest again.

"I'm so sorry, Tom. I thought I could control him better." Harry clutches his fists together so tightly pain shoots up his arms and he looks down to see little crescents of blood on his palms. "I thought I wouldn't have to deal with this at all!" He shouts, his rusty voice in a child's high pitch sounding almost ludicrous. "What more can be asked of me? Didn't I kill myself to rid the world of this evil? It never ends!" Harry rages, depressed and desperate and not caring if Dumbledore sends him to the Ministry to be locked up. Wait, Azkaban! Harry looks up at Dumbledore hopefully. "Do you think a Dementor's Kiss can tear our souls away from this body?"

"Harry!" Tom barks out, appalled.

Dumbledore looks shocked at the question, but after a second a speculative gleam enters the corner of his eye.

"You think it might be possible, don't you?" Harry asks hopefully, tears in the corner of his eye. Anything for it to be over.

"No, that is enough!" Tom says, scooping Harry up off the ground. "Albus, I cannot believe you are even considering this. Turning me into the Ministry is one thing, but letting a child ask for a Kiss and not even bat an eye… you have to be joking."

"That is no child you are holding, Tom." Dumbledore says, an unreadable expression on his face.

Tom gathers Harry closer to him and Harry can't find the will to resist. It is so comforting to be held like that, as if it will make the world hold back, even though Harry knows such things to be childish fantasies.

"He's right." Harry whispers into Tom's hair and he tries to hide from the world as his young body insists. "I'm not a child."

Tom holds him away from his body and studies Harry's turned face. "Of course you are, Harry."

"I'm actually 28. Or at least I was, before I failed to kill myself. When I failed to kill him." Harry can't bear to meet anyone's eyes. The soul inside his own seems torn between amusement at the situation or agitated worry.

"Why don't you tell us the whole story, Harry. There are many people out there that research Soul Magic, though few enough even consider dealing in something so Dark." Tom says kindly.

Harry winces, but knows that it is true. This whole bloody world is so innocent and pure. He feels that it is dulled and sullied by his very presence. "When I was a year old, Voldemort came to my house…"


	5. Interlude

"You can't really destroy a Horucrux in an object. Hermione said it was because you can't really kill something inanimate. Since I was a Horucrux myself, every time I destroyed one it would jump to me, as a living vessel." Harry sighs, shifting again in the large chair, hating that his feet either dangle impossibly high or stick off the ends when he is trying to be very adult and serious. "This turned out to be a very good thing since otherwise they would have gone to the next closest living Horucrux and likely that would have been Voldemort. Each time I destroyed one it became more and more obvious that this was the case. Every time I did the gathered soul bits would fight me for control.

"When I was made into a Horucrux, Voldemort simultaneously had his main soul displaced; otherwise I might have been overcome then and there. The next time he made a living Horucrux he had complete control over her. Of course, that time Voldemort used a snake. The second Horucrux I destroyed I hardly noticed as I was under a lot of stress. But the third… there were enough pieces to give me a real struggle.

"As for the last, I barely managed. Only due to my experience subverting them was I able to do it." Harry finishes finally, looking over at the two wizards. Both look a bit shocked. Voldemort lets out a mental noise/feeling roughly equivalent to an amused snort at the understatement. Harry rubs his throat to try to get the pain to ease a bit and takes another sip of the tea Dumbledore had poured him as he regards the two older wizards.

Riddle looks a bit green at the revelation that, had his mother not gone back to her family, he would be at this very moment leading an army of Dark wizards in a murderous rampage.

Dumbledore takes the fact that Riddle had become Voldemort more in stride, a fact Harry is not too surprised at seeing as he was trying to turn the man in an hour ago, but seems more disturbed that he hadn't done anything about the situation more personally. Harry does find this interesting and wonders again at his Headmaster's choice to send a young boy to fight a reincarnated Dark Lord when he himself had already defeated one.

/:Prophecies.:/ Voldemort says simply, with evident disgust in the mental voice. Though Harry is surprised at how close to his own thoughts the basilisk has crept while he was contemplating, he can't respond to the feeling with anything but complete agreement.

"Well, that certainly explains a lot." Riddle says finally.

"You can't say anything to anyone else." Harry says, scared at the reaction the two men are having. Despite his earlier bravado to Voldemort that he would let the Ministry take him in and do whatever they wanted, Harry really doesn't want to be locked up somewhere and poked and prodded. With his luck, it could literally be for all eternity. Dying is one thing, infinite torture quite something else.

Dumbledore regards Harry coolly after his outburst for a long while. "Very well." He says finally. "We will acquiesce to your wishes." Harry is startled at how quickly and formally he agrees.

"It certainly explains why you defeat Leglimency so easily. And why your spells in general are so powerful. With two souls' worth of magic, neither of which were weak, behind each spell, it's no wonder." Tom continues, his eyes unfocused and staring off at nothing and seemingly oblivious to the tension between Dumbledore and Harry.

At Riddle's assessment Albus narrows his eyes in something akin to anger. Harry, however, is stunned almost as much as Riddle seems to be. /:Of course it makes sense. You should have arrived at that explanation years ago. Or did you not notice that you were getting stronger after defeating each of my Horucruxes.:/ Voldemort asks rhetorically, knowing the answer and oozing derision at how thick Harry is. /I did notice it since waking here, but it's just you taking over my body!./ Harry protests hotly, snapping out of considerations of the implications. /:You really need it spelled out for you, don't you Potter. And even then you don't quite get it.:/ Voldemort smirks. Harry mentally smacks the basilisk as hard as he can, though it sets off waves of reciprocal pain for him.

"Perhaps, Harry, you should go back to your dormitory. I think it would be best if you continued classes as if nothing had happened while we look into this matter." Dumbledore says, not hint of a sparkle in his eyes now.

Harry nods and hops off the chair. He can't help feeling relief. He is so used to others doing the research, or at least directing him on what to do. Looking through newspapers is one thing, but he has no idea how to really go about theoretical spell construction. Plus there is the whole problem that anything he learns, so too will Voldemort. And with the Dark Lord's many more years of experience in Dark magics in general and soul magic particularly, any new insight will likely make infinitely more sense to him than to Harry. It is a partial relief of the burden, though, as Harry knows he cannot leave the two wizards on their own with the task. For one, Dumbledore at least will take the most expedient route "for the greater good" which usually turns out to mean "not for Harry's good".

Tom would probably try to stop the older wizard but Albus has already proven to be a wily adversary for a much older and more vicious version of the man. The sheer annoyance of finding Dumbledore's subtle plots bearing fruit and disrupting his own devious plans at every turn is enough to… Harry gasps and turns to the door and races out.

oOoOoOo

"Tom, snap out of it." Dumbledore says angrily, sitting back in his chair roughly. "I need to discuss this out loud and you are the only person I can do that with."

Tom is puzzled enough at the Headmaster's statement to refocus. "What do you mean, Albus?"

"Tom, do try to remember you are a Slytherin." Dumbledore almost growls, frustration evident in his every mannerism.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Next time a damaged child I've been caring for reveals he is carrying the souls of a grown man and myself as a maniacal despot from another dimension, I shall try to be more cunning." Tom says with a sneer.

Dumbledore starts at the comment, a smile almost breaking the cloud over his expression. "Point taken, Tom." Dumbledore sighs.

"So what's this about having to talk to me, specifically?"

Albus rubs his fingers over the bridge of his nose, pushing up his glasses. "When Harry told us not to tell anyone, he set a Command upon us."

Riddle's eyes widen. "Such a thing should not be possible without casting Imperious!" He gasps. "Harry must have told Severus to talk about his father."

Albus nods. "That would make sense."

"We need to ask him to lift it then." Tom says, shifting his weight forward to stand from the chair.

"Are you insane?" Dumbledore asks, frustrated and nearly yelling.

"No, but you are blinding yourself to Harry with this antagonistic attitude! I don't think he did this intentionally." Tom retorts.

"Since when do you believe in such good in a person?" Dumbledore asks, half in exasperation, half in bewilderment. In the past it was Albus restraining Tom from getting carried away with punishing child abusers, not the other way around.

"This isn't just anybody, Albus." Tom says, leaning back and rubbing his temples. "This is Harry, the boy I have held through nightmares, healed from curses darker than I care to contemplate and have spent countless hours getting to come out of his shell and heal."

"That boy is dead." Albus says coldly.

"No. They are one and the same. Harry has simply regained the memories that he was too traumatized to deal with before." Riddle leans forward with a light in his eye that Dumbledore is surprised to see. Not because it is an infrequent visitor to his friend's expression, but due to the person upon whom Riddle is focusing his fanatic zeal. "I've brought the boy this far and I am not giving up on him." Riddle grins, baring his teeth. "This time I get literally heal a broken soul!"

Dumbledore cannot entirely suppress his groan as he lets his head sink into his hand. Not only was that line over the top, the last time Tom got this worked up about something the entirety of Wizarding culture bowed before him. Albus wonders idly why exactly Tom cannot see himself as Voldemort.

"Imagine it, Albus! No one will ever be able to top settling a double souled time traveler. Circumstances like that only come about once in the life of a universe." Tom settles back in the chair with a pleased grin on his face. "In fact, it's probably a good thing we can't talk to anyone directly about this. Merlin knows we aren't the top experts in the field. We would quickly be overshadowed. But now…" Tom trails off, his expression going distant again, though this time in excitation not in fear. "It won't even seem odd for me to be researching soul magics. I had to dabble a bit into it to set up the Intention Device after all, I can say I'm trying to improve it."

"Be careful with that, Tom. We now have definitive proof of how badly meddling with one's soul can affect not only yourself but the multiverse." Albus feels compelled to caution, especially with the fanatical gleam in Tom's eye.

Tom looks over at the Headmaster ruefully. "Yes, you're right of course, Albus."

oOoOoOo

The next day is Herbology first thing. Harry anticipates that it will be quite boring as there are not all that many different ways of caring for plants. Professor Sprout is pretty much the same, as well, except for being much younger. Harry notes with some interest that she actually is the apprentice, though she does look much older than his parents, Sirius and Snape. The colorful woman with wild black hair streaked with grey is actually the professor and herself as Professor Juniper Bain.

"For this class, there aren't sections for more advanced and less advanced students. In subsequent years we try to put students with actual interest in plants into one class and have the other for those of you that are just here because they make you." Professor Bain grins in a way that seems a bit predatory. "Usually that class ends up being mostly Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, with the odd Slytherin looking to get a leg up with potions and the rare Gryffindor eyeing a career in the Ministry tackling dangerous plants." She smirks. "The rest of you will never quite grasp the majesty of the botanical world and will scrape by with Acceptables on your OWLs." She gestures for Sprout to come forward. "We have a randomly generated list of who will be in what class. I will post it here on the greenhouse wall and you can see where you need to go. Group A will be in Greenhouse 3, Group B in Greenhouse 5." Sprout proceeds to tack several copies of the list around the greenhouse. The professor continues as her assistant works. "I will be teaching class every other time. Pomona will teach the other section."

Harry stays put as the other children rush to the sheets. He doesn't particularly feel like getting trampled and he's pretty confident that Jeff will tell him what group he is in.

Jeff makes his way back to Harry and confirms that assumption. "We're in B, Harry." Jeff whispers.

With that the class breaks into two. Group B has to walk to the other greenhouse, which ends up being the most exciting part of the entire day. Harry is glad he is not supposed to speak or even really be mentally present as his and the Dark Lord's brain fuzzes out after the twelfth kind of fertilizer they will be using gets described.

After suffering through Herbology it is time for lunch and feeding their Puffskeins. Since taking care of the fuzzy balls takes only a few minutes, the group gets to enjoy a leisurely lunch period. Jeff looks rather apprehensive when a couple of first years come in somewhat singed. "Hey, what do you guys have to take care of?" Jeff asks a Slytherin girl as she walks by.

"Salamander." Is her reply as she sinks down onto the bench nearby. "We were trying to get it to eat peppers so that we could keep it outside the flames for a bit."

Jeff looks at her in horror. "But  _why?_ "

The girl turns to him with a sneer. "Because all the rest of my group is Ravenclaw, except for the one Gryffindor. And that certainly didn't help matters!" She grabs the jar of pumpkin juice roughly, pours a big glass and chugs it down.

Jeff makes sympathetic noises, looking grateful that his group is mostly more sensible Slytherins.

The next class is Runes. Harry is somewhat excited for this class. He only knows a very smattering of Runes from when he studied them in relation to rituals for dealing with the Horucruxes.

The professor is the other mystery woman that Harry saw at the staff table. She waits for all the students to seat themselves in the large room before she starts to talk. "I am Professor Eleanor Hengle. I will be teaching you Runes. Since this semester you have Healing and Blood Magic on Fridays, which I will also be teaching, I will be focusing on those runes that will apply to those spells." She pauses, seemingly lost in thought. "As such!" She yells suddenly, startling the students. "I expect you to have done your homework from this class before I have you on Friday. Anyone who slacks off shall be quite apparent." She sighs then stands and walks around the front of her desk. "Additionally, I do not have helpers for this class as many professors do for your other classes. For Healing I shall be bringing in outside specialists at different times, Healers and Blood mages, naturally. I believe some of your parents will be in this year." She notes idly, then stares abruptly at a Hufflepuff who squeaks. She waves her hand loftily. "No matter. Runes are quite straightforward." She walks to the board and regards it before pulling out her wand and waving for writing to appear on it. She stands there staring at the board for long enough that Harry and several of his classmates wonder if she has forgotten where she is.

Harry starts to doodle the things on the board on the parchment in front of him. The one symbol looks like two people, one big and one little, holding hands. That is, if you look at it with your eyes squinted and at a bit of an angle. It could also be an octopus.

"Exactly right!" Professor Hengle yells suddenly, causing most people in the room to jump. "Ten points to Slytherin. Why aren't you all copying the board?"

Harry gets a lot of odd looks and a couple glares. He ignores them and continues his rendition of a parent and child octopus on his parchment.

"The first symbol is for learning. It depicts a teacher and student, which, in older times, was a parent and child. There is much debate as to whether this particular picture was designed by humans or centaurs." She pauses again. "Well, really the centaurs don't claim it particularly, but I've never seen a human with six limbs, have you?" She asks, suddenly turning to a young Ravenclaw.

"Actually, ma'am, with the…"

"No matter." Professor Hengle interrupts. "It is the rune nonetheless. I expect you to have it memorized by tomorrow and have written six inches on at least four different rituals it is used in and why." She nods to herself.

A Hufflepuff gamely raises his hand.

"Yes?" The professor asks, turning slowly to look at the child.

"Er… maybe you could explain how to use runes in a ritual?" He asks. Next to him three other 'Puffs pat him on the back and grin. Apparently they had put him up to it.

"I suppose that might be helpful. Please turn to page five of your course books."

At the end of the two hours, Harry's brain hurts, both from the subject matter and from the abstracted method of teaching. The runes are rather complex and the amount of different combinations is staggering. The professor had also gone over the basics of Arithmancy in order to demonstrate the positioning of runes in space, much less against each other. For once his other soul is of no help. Voldemort used many runes in the creation of the Horucruxes, but apparently only at their very basic level. At the end of class the professor had demonstrated the power of runes arranged properly by drawing a sequence of them in chalk  _without her wand_  and causing the room to become freezing cold. Then by merely erasing one line and adding another the room was sweltering hot. Then by drawing an arrow she made it rain. Harry shakes his head and hopes that the next class, Charms, is a happy medium between the boredom of Herbology and the complete bafflement that is Runes.

The Charms classroom is the same one from Harry's time, and once again the entire year is cramped into space better suited for half their number.

"Oh, good. You are all here." Flitwick's voice comes from behind a mound of books. "Ah, here we are." He says as he comes into view climbing onto a precarious stack. "We will be dividing you into two groups based on skill level, which I'm sure you are all quite used to by now. But before I do that I would like to go over the 'Household Charms' assignments that I'm sure you all have been puzzling over in your syllabus. On a rotating schedule you will all be helping out the House Elves cleaning up from dinner. First years have Thursday, second is Friday, third Monday, fourth Tuesday, and sixth on Wednesday. Fifth and seventh years are excused due to the tests they must perform, as are the House or School champions in the tournaments."

"We have to work with House Elves? What nonsense is this?" One of the Slytherin boys bursts out, unsurprisingly. "We're paying  _you_  not the other way around!"

Flitwick smiles mischievously. "Ah, but when else are you going to get such practice at your household Charms?" Harry sees his point, but it is somewhat shocking that they are putting the students to work like this. "We discovered that a distressing few of Hogwarts graduates know how to maintain their own households. It really is shameful! Can't clean their dishes magically, can't pack and unpack with a wave of the wand… can't even fix the leak in the roof!" Flitwick shakes his head sadly. "But with this new program, you will learn all of that over the years. Now. You each will have to do this extra work about once a semester, so you can stop whining about it. There will be groups of four. Ms. Evans has the schedule." Harry stops listening to the short man at the sight of his mother. She looks like she is barely able to hold back a smile herself at the distressed faces of all of the children. Harry's heart fills seeing her so happy.

"Charms is a much more delicate art than curses, hexes and creature containment." Flitwick muses. "As such, we cannot simply ask you to perform them without first giving some instruction. Thus, for the first hour we will be teaching you the wizard's most useful art- levitation!" /:Only a supremely practical art when one is compensating for something.:/ Voldemort comments drolly, almost startling a snort from Harry before he recovers himself and smacks the basilisk.

"So let's split up into two groups, one with me and one with Ms. Evans." Flitwick says, hopping down from his stack of books.

Harry rushes over to his mother's side and tries to look nonchalant while still making sure he ends up in her group. Jeff comes pushing through the crowd a few moments later, looking put out.

"Oh hello, Jeff, Harry." Lily says, smiling down at the two of them. "Alright, let's move to our practice room." She addresses the significantly male group surrounding her.

They end up in a large room without much in it that Harry recognizes as being a storage room in his time. Lily passes out feathers to everyone and begins to describe how to cast Wingardium Leviosa. Harry, being able to cast this spell in his sleep (the unmentionable incident with the backpack) as well as silently and sometimes wandlessly… Harry feels completely justified in ignoring what Lily is actually saying in order to study his young mother-to-be. She looks like she did in many of the pictures he has seen, but the pictures are a poor comparison to her in actuality. They cannot capture her animated voice or her magical aura.

Harry starts when Jeff nudges him and whispers in his ear, "levitate the feather, Harry." Harry pays brief attention to the feather, croaking out the incantation and sending it soaring up to the ceiling. His mother is busy helping out each of the students with hand motions, wrist flicks, spell intent and pronunciation. By the end of the first forty-five minutes, everyone can more or less levitate their feather.

"Alright- now comes the fun part!" Lily says excitedly, pulling out a fuzzy ball from her robes. "Now we are going to levitate this ball around the room, each person taking a turn as it goes around. You can help the person next to you- in fact you should a little bit. Don't take over their turn though! Once we get it all the way around the room once we'll go back into the classroom and you will get assigned to one of the two classes." With that she casts the spell and sends the poofy ball around the ring.

Harry is intrigued. This is such an interesting and fun way to practice the spell. It's really quite brilliant. It takes about fifteen goes around the circle before they get a perfect run. Even for people that have mastered the basic levitation, moving the ball in a direction other than simply up is an interesting challenge.

Back in the classroom there are only about a third of the students that remained with Flitwick still present. "Form a line and wait for Flitwick or me to test you." Lily says, leaving her group to go stand by the diminutive professor.

The challenge seems to be to tossing the same fluffy ball between the student and the professor. Every student continues with the exercise until they lose control and drop it. Harry goes to the back of the line, trying to see how many volleys the students seem to be managing. A few aren't successful even with one volley, but most seem to be averaging one to three volleys before the ball flops to the ground. One student manages to keep the ball in the air for a total of six.

Finally it is Harry's turn. He has no worries about his levitation skills or even his ability to get the ball to go back toward the professor, but Charms were never his strongest class, so he concentrates as Flitwick sends the ball his way. Harry returns it smartly and Flitwick sends it immediately back. The flying ball is yellow and the somewhat erratic movement as it switches between their control sends Harry into a predatory hypnotic trance much like when he was playing Quidditch all those many years ago.

Harry is just beginning to feel a budding sense of satisfaction when his control slips and the ball lands on the floor. Harry glares at it as though it has betrayed him. /:I thought we agreed not to show off?:/ Voldemort asks. Harry immediately recognizes the other's mental push as that which distracted him in the middle of the game.

"Well young man! I have never had such a satisfying go with anyone. Thank you very much for the pleasure." Flitwick smiles.

Harry wonders just how many volleys he has completed.

"Well, you better be off or you will miss dinner!" Flitwick says cheerfully, shooing Harry out the door.

Jeff starts awake from where he had been napping at one of the desks and trots out after Harry. "Well, that was pretty impressive. I mean, I fell asleep after the first couple dozen, but I'm sure it kept on being brilliant." Jeff says, settling into an easy walk at Harry's side. "You both kept getting faster and faster, trying to trip each other up by sending it at odd angles… you know, it's really too bad it isn't a regular sport." Jeff muses. Harry's unease is increasing by the minute.

/:Still annoyed I interrupted you?:/ Voldemort hisses.

/I am annoyed at you, but I guess I can't be about that, particularly./ Harry concedes grudgingly.

oOoOoOo

After dinner all the students relax in the common room. Harry observes them from a corner. He feels a vague sort of satisfaction perching on a stone ledge almost out of sight. Though he knows it is childish, it gives him a pleasantly gargoyle-like feeling. It is difficult to have adult thoughts in a child's body that has a child's brain and a child's instincts.

He watches Jeff socializing with some of the other first years and is happy for him. Even if Harry were still near comatose, the boy deserves to have his own childhood as well. Harry wonders what life he had known prior to ending up in Riddle's orphanage. Harry smiles that terms like "Riddle's orphanage" roll so easily about in his brain after not quite a week in this new dimension.

With a sigh Harry hops down from his perch and slips out of the common room. He wanders the halls, not particularly worried about being caught, even though it is after curfew. If someone does catch him, they probably deserve the chance to give Harry a punishment for it.

After a while Harry's feet take him to the Gryffindor tower. He hides around the corner from the Fat Lady and looks at the corridor that he knows so well. In another lifetime this had been his first real home. With a sigh Harry turns to go back to the dungeons, suddenly tired. As he does, a sound of laughter comes faintly from down a hallway. Harry almost ignores it, but curiosity wins out.

He creeps closer to the sound, having to backtrack when he misses a small corridor. At the end is a landscape that is obviously being used as a door. The sounds from behind are indistinct and Harry wonders if he can break the ward and slip in without being noticed before realizing what he had just been thinking and stopping in shock. He turns instinctively toward the basilisk, but the creature somehow imparts a gesture of hands raised in innocence, a feat Harry would probably have been more impressed by if he was less distracted. Why had he wanted to break into someone's room? Just for fun?

The sounds get louder and suddenly the portrait swings open. Harry backpedals wildly before bumping into the corridor wall.

"Well, I really do need to be getting back, Lily. I'm not on duty tonight, but I am tomorrow… Harry?" Severus looks down at Harry in confusion. "How in the world did you get out of bed and all the way up here?"

"Harry?" Lily's voice comes from behind Severus. She wraps her arms around the tall wizard's waist and peeks over his shoulder. "Why, so it is. Nice to see you, Harry. You did a great job in class today."

Harry's mind blanks out in pure shock. Of course he knew that Snape and his mum had been close- friends even. But that intimate contact looked like they might be a bit more than just friends.

The walk back to the dorm is a bit of a haze. How Harry ends up tucked into his bed is an almost complete mystery to him. "I have to stop this. I have to get my mum and dad together." He says with eyes unfocused.

/:Are you insane?:/ Voldemort asks, rearing up in Harry's head as if to strike.

"What?" Harry protests, focusing within. "What's wrong with wanting your parents together? With wanting to be  _born?_ "

/:That is exactly what is wrong it.:/ Voldemort says in annoyance. /:Are you really this dense? I'm embarrassed to have been defeated by you.:/ At Harry's complete lack or understanding, the basilisk thrashes in irritation and elaborates. /:When 'I' am near Tom Riddle, what happens? And what do you think would happen if 'Harry Potter' is born into this world with you already in it?:/

"What are you saying?' Harry asks in shock.

/:I'm saying that you have to do everything in you power to make sure Severus and that Mudblood marry and have children together.:/

"WHAT!?"


	6. Ghostly Feints

/:I'm sorry, you're right. I said that poorly.:/ The basilisk tucks its nose into the end of its tail and makes a coughing noise. It flings its head back and proclaims loudly/:Woe! Remove that Mudblood hussy from my shining Slytherin hero as I need her to put up with that insufferable James Potter long enough for her to pop out a copy of you so that the soul interference will kill you both.:/

"WHAT!?"

/: Your vocabulary could use some diversification.:/ Voldemort sneers.

"You- you just insulted my mother!" Harry sputters. "And my dad!"

/: I was attempting to give you more incentive to not be an idiot. I thought that if I presented it in a confrontational manner you might be more apt to listen.:/

"No! Of course I'll never be apt to listen to you." Harry scoffs, the entire concept insulting.

/:Right.:/ Voldemort hisses. /: Well I suppose I don't particularly care either way. After all, if you burst into Harry-ether when your other self is born, that's pretty positive for me. If, instead, you manage to swallow your bile enough to get your mother together with Snape, that will probably damage your soul enough that I can take over more easily. So either situation is good. I just prefer Oedipus complexes. Makes for great psychological torture.;/

Harry's mind is blank. He is simply at a loss for words, so stunned with the depths of depravity that he is being subjected to.

Voldemort continues blithely along. /:Of course, one really should follow up with a dash of hope you can later dash after a long spate of physical torture, but the mental stuff is a good primer…:/

Harry smacks the basilisk so hard he passes out.

oOoOoOo

The next morning Harry bolts upright in bed with an epiphany. "I'll just have to work to fully accept- no! Be positively  _thrilled_  that my mother is dating Professor Snape! That way I can avoid a duplicate soul  _and_  mental anguish." His resolve lasts approximately five seconds after the basilisk sends him a mental image. This time being approximately the amount of time it takes Harry to figure out that the image is a graphic, moving vision of his mother and Potion Master engaging in wildly experimental sex.

Harry bursts from his bed with a shriek and dashes to the bathroom. He stands under the closest shower and turns it on full blast into his face.

"Harry!" Jeff calls as he races into the bathroom and skids and slips to a stop beside Harry. "What's wrong?" He asks worriedly, turning the water off.

Harry growls out a spell that turns the shower back on and locks it there.

"What in the world?" One of the other boys pops his head in through the doorway.

"Quick- go get Sev or Tom!" Jeff calls worriedly, trying to stop Harry from soaking himself in the cold water.

"Who?"

"The Head of House or Snape!" Jeff snaps, irritated when the physically smaller Harry resists all of his attempts to be pulled from the shower.

/: Yes… very mature. :/ Voldemort muses. /: Who would have thought that sharing some innocent memories would have such a profound impact on your delicate sensibilities.:/

/You never witnessed any such thing!/ Harry snarls mentally.

/:Oh, you know this for a fact, then?:/ Voldemort muses with a nasty tone.

"Jeff, what is… Harry!" Snape says as he comes into the bathroom. "What are you doing?" Snape takes over from where Jeff had been trying to coax Harry out of the shower. He is much more successful, but not for the reasons he assumes. Harry decides that trying to Obliviate himself from the memory of Snape naked will be much more doable without his own memories of the man's light grey pajamas soaked through and sticking to his body.

Harry jumps out of the shower toward Jeff, leaving the bemused Snape soaking wet and trying to turn the shower off. While Harry knows the attempt is almost sure to meet with failure, due to the recent determination that a soaked through Snape will be detrimental to Operation: Keep Myself From Being Born he ignores the apprentice's plight.

"Harry, next time, you should take your clothes off before trying to take a shower." Jeff says, an expression on his face like he thought that Harry had known that, but that he is currently reevaluating his estimation of the other boy's cognition. "And you can take a nice warm shower, too."

Harry ignores the boy, glad that he isn't expected to give responses to anything, and quickly changes into his school uniform.

He follows Jeff down to breakfast, turning a slightly malicious ear to the cursing coming from the bathroom. Even though Snape hadn't  _sent_  him the images, he had been  _in_  them.

oOoOoOo

The first class of the day is History of Magic. Harry settles his head down on a desk in the back of the room, noting that the entire first year barely fits into the classroom. Some Hufflepuffs end up on the floor after graciously giving them up to a pair of Gryffindors that skid into the room right before the bell.

"Oh, well, thanks. You sure you don't want…" One of the Gryffs asks skeptically, clearly torn between being noble and getting a desk.

"Oh, no bother. We all wanted to sit together, anyway." One of the two that gave up their seat says, waving at three other Hufflepuffs who wave and grin.

The sound of a throat clearing directs all the attention to the front of the room. Harry is mildly surprised to see Binns floating behind the teachers desk. He supposes that he shouldn't be, but so much seems backwards he would probably have been equally surprised if Binns had been alive.

"Our professor is a ghost?" A Slytherin whispers loudly, appalled.

"His coursework hasn't changed in a decade. We have a transcript of all his lectures!" A Ravenclaw whispers eagerly back, then looks stumped as to why the Slytherin looks horrified.

"Today we will begin at the most important event in the history of our magical heritage…" Binns starts. Harry is depressed to realize that it is exactly the same speech that he had heard so many years ago… or so many years in the future? He quickly stops that line of thinking before he gets a headache and instead watches the Ravenclaw lip-syncing with the ghost with a mixture of fascination and depression at having to endure Binns twice through.

/:Three times through, if you count my time at Hogwarts.:/ Voldemort says with resigned disgust.

/He's been teaching since  _you_  were in school? That was so long ago!/ Harry blurts out mentally.

/: You know, Potter- there is a chunk of my soul that is actually younger that you are, so don't give me that.:/ Voldemort says, transferring his disgust from Binns to Harry. /:And I'll have you know that even my oldest soul fractions are still quite young in wizarding terms. Dumbledore was over  _one hundred and sixty_  if you recall.:/

/And you're taking the form of a basilisk that was well over two  _thousand_  years old.:/ Harry points out, deciding not to odd comment about ages of soul fragments in favor of riling up the apparently age-conscious Dark Lord. It does make a fair amount of sense, though, being as the man had been pathologically fearful of death.

"Are you following him along word for word?" The Slytherin hisses at the Ravenclaw.

"Yes, but stop talking, you're making my timing be a bit off… hey!" She yells, trying to get the paper back as the Slytherin snatches it away. He holds her off as she tries to climb over him to get the paper and scans it quickly.

"Merlin… there are even notes on inflection!" The Slytherin says breathlessly. He pales considerably. "And they are accurate!"

He shoves the paper back into the irate Ravenclaw's hands and turns to Jeff. "You said that your friend there will cast spells if you ask, right?" He hisses intently.

"Well, yes… but… why do you aks?" Jeff asks, looking up from his notes that are already dissolving into doodles.

The Slytherin leans farther forward and looks at Harry intently. "Hey, Harry!" Harry hears him, but chooses to ignore him. The irritation boiling off his other soul is such sweet revenge… "Harry- cast the exorcism charm on Professor Binns!"

Power rushes through Harry and he cries " _Exorcisimus!_ " before his attention has fully come back into the present. Harry looks on in horrified fascination as Binns begins to glow with golden light and then shrinks into a beam of light that shoots through the ceiling. His mouth drops open.

/:You knew the exorcism charm?:/ Voldemort asks in seemingly genuine confusion. /:There  _is_ an exorcism charm?:/

/What do you mean? Didn't you just take me over?/

Harry feels Voldemort's odd look on him.

/Right… that would be bad./

The Slytherin jumps into the air, whooping. "Alright Harry!"

Harry winces, wishing the boy would keep to himself that he had just vanished their professor.

"What did you slimy Slytherins do?" A Gryffindor asks indignantly, trying to cover her relief by getting angry in the typical house response.

"We just fired that boring professor!" The boy says, jumping onto the desk, elated. "Did you know that he was using the same  _inflections_  that he has for years?" He waves at the Ravenclaw beside him who is nearly in tears. "She has the notes to prove it!"

At that, the Ravenclaw perks up. "That's right! We can teach the class to ourselves until the professors can bring Binns back!" She exclaims cheerfully, rushing to the front of the classroom to do just that. The Slytherin just stares after her, his face full of dawning horror.

"I just don't get them. Not at all." He mutter to himself.

"Well, you three snakes are coming with us to the Headmaster's office." The Gryffindor insists, crossing her arms with a posse of recruited Gryffs behind her.

"You know where it is?" Jeff asks, looking impressed.

The girl quickly turns red. "Er… that is…"

"I do!" Chimes a 'Puff from the floor. She stands up and dusts off her school robes. "My Aunt lives here year round, so I know where just about everything is."

"Oh, you do, do you?" The Gryff says nastily, taking out her aggression on the helpful 'Puff. "Who's this aunt, then?"

The 'Puff answers calmly. "Pomona Sprout. I'm Fiona Sprout."

"Well, lead the way, then, Fiona." Jeff says pleasantly. "I bet Tom will want to know about this, too." He grins wryly. "This isn't the first time Harry's done something like this." He then looks contemplative. "Though this may be the worst."

Harry, irritated by Jeff's vote of no-confidence, sets off to the Headmaster's office by himself. The other firsties hurry to keep up with his power walk down Hogwart's corridors.

"Aren't you going to lead us, then?" The Gryffindor ringleader asks.

"Well, I would, but he's going the right way." Fiona says, her voice sounding like she is shrugging.

Soon enough they are in front of the gargoyle. Harry is in no mood to stare the thing down until it moves and he has no idea what the password is. He crosses his arms and leans against a handy wall.

"This is it?" One of the Gryffindor posse asks skeptically.

"Yup." Fiona confirms. "Oh, shoot- I only know the summer password."

"There are passwords?" The Slytherin that started this whole mess asks, with something akin to awe in his voice. "Was the Headmaster a Slytherin in school? That's downright paranoid."

"I'm sure there are reasons." The Gryffindor ringleader growls.

"Oh, sure, lots of reasons to make students completely unable to seek you for advice when they need it, seeing as how we are all full grown wizards and witches and all." The Slytherin drawls.

Fortunately the argument is cut off by the gargoyle jumping out of the way, revealing a momentarily startled Headmaster. "Shouldn't you children be in class?" He asks them kindly, his friendly eyes holding a hint of steel.

A burst of frenzied explanation erupts from all the assembled firsties, except for Harry, of course. Dumbledore finally catches sight of him and his eyes narrow. "Why don't you all go back to your classroom and tell everyone that they need to write a 2 foot essay on the importance of studying History of Magic. I or someone else will be along to sort everything else out shortly." The assembled students protest, but Dumbledore firmly but gently insists. "And, Jeff, you can go back, too. I will talk with Tom about Harry." Dumbledore says. It takes quite a bit more coaxing to get Jeff to leave, but finally the two wizards are alone. "Well, Harry, let's go up to my office, then, shall we?" Albus turns around without waiting to see if Harry is following and goes back up the stairs.

Once in the office he makes a few quick fire-calls. Harry doesn't know who the first few are from, but after the sixth Tom Riddle steps out of the flames and sinks down into the chair opposite of Harry.

"So what did he do, now?" Riddle asks wearily.

"I'm not exactly sure, yet." Albus replies, turning toward Harry. "I thought that it would save time if Harry would tell us both at the same time."

Harry takes that as his cue to spill, which he does after an embarrassing false start. He clears his throat and tries again. "Apparently I used the exorcising charm on Professor Binns."

"The what?" Both professors say at the same time.

"Er… I take it that means that you've never heard of it, either."

"What do you mean 'either,' Harry? Did you cast it or didn't you?" Tom asks.

"Well, yes, I did cast it… but before I did, I never had heard of it before."

Both professors look quite skeptical.

"Look, I was sort of daydreaming since I've already heard that lecture. A lot of your classes are completely different, but that one is  _exactly_  the same." Harry pauses, musing a bit. "Down to the inflections. A bit scary, that."

"Ghosts aren't well known for their originality." Tom says dryly.

"What happened then?" Dumbledore prods.

"Well, then this Slytherin asks me to cast the 'exorcism charm' and it just sort of… whipped out of me." Harry shrugs. "I don't know how else to explain it."

"Hmm." Dumbledore muses, popping a candy into his mouth.

"What was the spell effect?" Tom asks softly.

"Binns disappeared in a column of golden light." Harry says, somewhat apologetically.

"It seems that we will be in need of a new History professor." Dumbledore muses. Harry squints a little bit- it seems almost as though the Headmaster is pleased?

"Drat." Tom says, with a similar lack of remorse. "Well, Harry." He continues, turning to face the younger wizard and leaning forward in his chair. "From the preliminary research I've been able to do since yesterday- I may have an explanation of this. Most texts talk of souls combining meaning that your magical cores are similarly bound." He gestures broadly and sinks back in the chair, steepling his fingers in front of him. "So my theory is either that you spontaneously combined two spells that either one of your souls knew to make this spell, or that with such a large magical core, you are actually closer to magic itself and the spell flowed naturally from that."

"A third possibility is due to your time traveling." Dumbledore continues where Tom had left off. "It is possible that, being both souls outside the appropriate time, that you are pulling from spells created in the future." He gives a long hard look at Harry. "None of the options is particularly pleasant."

Harry nods sadly. He is beginning to lose hope that anyone will be able to help him. His power seems so vast that it will crush him and everything around him, whether he wills it or not. Voldemort cackles in glee from the back of his mind, sounding quite mad.

"Now, before we send you back to your classes- the next I believe is flying…" Harry perks up at that. "Who was the Slytherin who told you to cast the spell. I will need to have words with them."

"Er…" Harry feels his face flush.

"You don't know your yearmates?" Tom asks incredulously. "Well, what does she look like?"

"He." Dumbledore corrects around his candy.

"You don't know the names of your  _dorm mates?_ " Tom asks, this time looking halfway between incised and disappointed. Harry sinks down in the chair, for once grateful of his small size.

"Er… black hair, long, light eyes- grey maybe? Tallish, really bony." Harry mutters.

"Marfic Black?" Tom asks, turning to Dumbledore, who nods a confirmation. Harry sinks even further down. He should have been able to recognize the family resemblance. And he certainly should have known the other boys sleeping in his room! Tom sighs. "It would be him. He takes after that cousin of his, Sirius." Harry squirms a bit in his chair.

"Can I go then?" He asks, not caring that he sounds petulant. It probably looks perfectly natural on a body as young looking as his. He can't wait to get on a broom and do some heart stopping dives until he can forget the whole incident. /:And maybe your mental images from this morning.:/ Voldemort says in an innocently helpful tone that makes visions of Snape drenched, his thin grey nightwear barely decent. His imagination gleefully combines that with the sight of Snape draping over his mother into a positively traumatizing image. /:You know, it's almost too easy…:/ The basilisk muses.

Harry bolts out of the office without waiting for permission and doesn't stop until he hits the flying pitch.

He makes it just in time to see their Herbology professor coming out onto the pitch carrying a large parcel of shrunken brooms under her arm. Harry is confused until Professor Bain starts to talk.

"So we're going to teach you lot the basics of broom flight. All years have this class at the same time as some of you will never get it, while others of you will take to it better than you took to your mother's tit." Many blush at the comment, but the professor doesn't seem to notice. She drops the brooms and unshrinks them. "For those of you that are hopeless and never want to sit on a stick ever again in your life. Let me first say that you are missing out. There is nothing quite like riding a long, hard shaft to get your blood pumping and give you a sense of exhilaration." Harry blushes a bit at this one, though it seems as though fewer students understand the double entendre. The professor seems to be keeping a sharp eye on those who do. She smirks when she looks at Harry, which only makes him blush harder. She continues on with her lecture, describing the various sections and the intricate system of who teaches whom and when and where. Harry has a suspicion that the professor is describing in such detail out of a malicious desire to see all the students panic and their eyes glaze over.

"Here, Harry. I grabbed you a sandwich and I fed your Puffskein." Harry accepts the food as his stomach rumbles. He hadn't realized that he had been in the Headmaster's office so long. Sure it had felt like an eternity, but Harry had thought that was because he had been so embarrassed.

"Right, so everyone over to a broom and say 'up!' You had better be confident about it, no one can ever get it up without passion." The professor says, lining everyone up.

Harry goes to his broom and gets it to leap to his hand with no trouble. Jeff has a bit more trouble, though not so much as the obviously Muggle-born children.

"Well done, Harry." Comes a voice from behind him. Harry jumps and turns, expecting another risqué comment. Professor Bain merely smirks at him, apparently above sexually harassing her students.

Once everyone has their brooms in hand, the professor guides them through mounting and take-off. Considering his previous experiences with flying classes- the first Neville had broken his arm and every subsequent lesson either he lost control again or Hermione threw up- the class goes amazingly smoothly. Harry loops idly high above the rest of the class, watching Jeff flit about underneath him like a dull colored Snitch with some amusement. The other boy never seems to think to look up.

The bell tolls and Harry lets out a large sigh. The brooms from this time are simply too slow for him. He had pushed his to its limits, but it was like getting back on a tricycle once you've been mountain biking. The thrill was simply not there.

Harry shrugs and points the broom handle straight down, using gravity to increase the broom's speed to nearly acceptable levels. The wind is screaming past his ears and Voldemort is screaming in panic in his head as he gets closer and closer to the ground, faster, faster… at the very last second he pulls up from the dive. He is so close to the ground he climbs up onto the handle so his feet stop digging into the ground. At the doorway back into Hogwarts he steps off the handle and keeps walking as though nothing had happened, barely noting that the broom comes to a somewhat rough landing in the pile that other students had already made.

It takes Harry a second to realize that the screaming didn't stop at the end of his dive. He yawns and wiggles a finger in his ear.

/:What the bloody hell did you think you were doing! You probably would have made us into an eternally young paraplegic, you thoughtless curr!:/

"Harry! What were you doing? You could have killed yourself! And then Tom would have killed  _me!_ "

"That was so amazing! Do it again!"

"Teach me!"

"Play on our team, Harry! I don't care you're a slimy Slytherin!"

Harry keeps walking, his head down and a scowl on his face. He is certainly not looking forward to the attention, though the dive had definitely been worth it.

"And if you had died, Professor Hengle would have made your  _ghost_  learn the healing runes!" Jeff adds. The statement only adds to his dread. Harry hadn't understood a bit of the homework. The undoubtedly insane professor is going to make his life very difficult.


	7. Time for Another Good Idea, Bad Idea

Harry settles for glaring forward when he finally gets to the last class of the week. Unfortunately the children around him don't seem to catch the hint to leave him alone. They are still gushing over the dive that, while extremely refreshing at the time, he is now beginning to regret. Whether he regrets  _pulling up_  or the dive altogether, he's not sure.

: Remember that we are probably immortal./ Voldemort hisses frantically at Harry's suicidal thoughts. : You wouldn't even succeed./

Harry lets his head sink onto his arms as he half listens to the professor describing the rune for teacher/family and how it can be used in a variety of spells. Honestly, he didn't understand it when he read it over the night before, nor is the reiteration making a dent in his ignorance.

But really- why not try to kill himself again? Sure it didn't work last time, but maybe it would this time. If it failed, he would likely end up in the same state as before in another universe. Maybe one that wasn't so utopian where another Voldemort would compete with an even worse monster and be a blessing rather than a curse. Maybe the fates had intended his being sent to this world as a sort of vacation before he went on to complete his Dark Lord destroying destiny.

:Harry- pull yourself together. Your attitude is completely pathetic. I was embarrassed before that you managed to defeat me, but now I'm downright mystified./

In fact, the whole part where Voldemort was being so consistent in trying to shoot the idea down meant that it had a certain amount of merit. It seemed when there was a decision to be made that the basilisk thought would turn out amusing or beneficial either way he would argue whichever way Harry had decided wouldn't work.

:No, I'm just trying to confuse you so you fall into my clever logic traps./ Voldemort continued, his mental voice feeling a bit stretched. :You should absolutely do something rash. Why not just leave class and…/ The basilisk starts to twist more and more rapidly around Harry's thoughts, seeking a weak point.

He's not even really trying anymore to be sneaky, actually, he's really starting to panic. That must mean that Harry is almost at a good solution to the whole problem. Harry feels almost like he is being haunted by some sort of fading ghost more than he's being harassed by a vicious Dark Lord…

Voldemort feels Harry's epiphany and starts to desperately swim through the other's consciousness, seeking control, seeking rationality. :Harry, this is a really bad idea- I think you should talk to Dumbledore, or Riddle. Or maybe your mother? Yes! You should definitely talk to your dear departed mother before you…/

" _Exorcisimus!"_  Harry cries out, pointing his wand at his head.

All that either of them can see is blinding, brilliant,  _painful_  golden light.

:Ah! I'm blind.: Voldemort clutches his face with his hands, tearing at the skin there where it tingles and itches.

"Harry! What's wrong? Why did you do that?" Jeff tries to get Harry's arms back to his side but is resisted.

:Get your hands off me you useless child! Can't you see that… I'm… in pain?: Voldemort finally allows Jeff to pull his ( _his!_ ) hands down from his face. A huge grin splits his face into two disturbing halves. :Hah! See how well that worked. I knew there that idiot was going to really muck this all up eventually. My patience is rewarded!: He turns to Jeff. :Well, minion, would you like to be the first recruit to my new army? You're young, but one can always use more canon fodder.:

"It's alright, Harry. Can you pay attention to class or do I need to take you to Tom?"

Voldemort narrows his eyes to slits. :You will pay for this lack of respect, imp.: He points his wand at Jeff. : _Crucio!_ : Nothing happens. Or rather, Jeff does not fall to the ground writhing in agony and screaming. He just pushes the point of the wand toward the floor.

"Professor?" Jeff asks.

"Why are you still sitting here and not taking the boy to your Head of House?" Professor Hengle barks in reply.

"Yes ma'am!" Jeff jumps from his seat and pulls along the hissing and spitting Voldemort behind him.

Back in the classroom Marfic Black turns to the Ravenclaw sitting next to him and whispers, "did you see that Harry's eyes turned this wicked shade of red?"

"Shh! I need to hear this explanation. I don't care about your mentally challenged dorm mate." The girl replies, still annoyed at Marfic for stealing her History notes earlier.

oOoOoOo

Jeff slows to a stop outside the DADA room, peering in at Tom teaching the fifth years what appears to be advanced shield charms. He is blissfully ignorant of the suggestions Voldemort is making about what he should do with the suit of armor in the hallway they just passed, his mother, a bunch of grapes and a fresh bezoar.

:As soon as I recall a Parseltongue spell that involved something other than mild warming and air humidity I will make you regret ever mishandling me!: Voldemort howls (as much as is possible in a language comprised entirely of hissing).

Tom's head flies up at the last, loudest insult. "Mr. Snape, if you would take over for a moment." He walks deceptively calmly to the back of the classroom and out into the hallway. He crouches down in front of Jeff with a small smile. "I'm sorry your classes keep getting interrupted."

"It's ok Tom." Jeff smiles.

"You are doing a great job. Let me take it from here, though, why don't you go back to class."

"Alright."

Tom regards Voldemort from his crouching position, taking in the blood red eyes and the small figure's retreat to the far side of the hallway several meters away. He makes as if to rise but Voldemort slashes his wand through the air in front of him. Nothing happens magically, but Tom pauses.

:Don't come near me you fool! You must be at least half as intelligent as I am.: Voldemort hisses angrily, backing away yet further.

Tom lets the hand he had been extending drop with shock. "I think that I should stop being so surprised that this sort of thing keeps happening, but who can predict this sort of thing?" He looks at the Dark Lord askance. :Where's Harry?:

:The fool tried to exorcise himself, damned if I know.:

Tom's eyes harden and he starts towards Voldemort.

:Are you really that stupid?: Voldemort cries, grasping his chest and backing away hurriedly. :We can't be anywhere near each other in this state. Unless you want to die and have a stash of Dark tomes of deadly spells in Parseltongue?: Voldemort finishes with a faint hint of hope.

"Of course I don't." Tom says, standing and brushing off his knees but not coming any closer. "Not that I would tell you if I did."

Voldemort narrows his crimson eyes. :Tell me where they are!:

"No." Tom smirks, then his eyes widen and he grins. :And you can't Command me in Parsletongue, either.:

Voldemort curses again. He pokes about in his mind for the power boost that is Harry but finds nothing. Without the dual soul action, he cannot hope to overpower the other wizard's will.

:I must say that you are creative with snake vocabulary.: Tom smirks, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He tilts his head back and then seems to come to a decision. "Mr. Snape?" He calls over his shoulder.

"Yes?" Comes a reply from within. Soon Severus sticks his head out into the corridor. "Oh, hello Harry." Severus looks to Tom and raises and eyebrow almost as expressively than his older counterpart in the alternate universe. "You want me to watch him while you finish up?"

"If you would. I think we may have to bring Myrtle here to have an extra eye on the weekend, if we can't get everything resolved." Tom gives Voldemort a long, suggestive look.

Severus sighs. "Yes." He easily chases Voldemort down and scoops him up into a cuddle. "There, there Harry, calm down, it's alright."

Tom's lips twitch and he turns quickly before he can no longer contain his laughter at the scene, knowing who exactly is behind the crimson eyes. Voldemort vows to Occlude all memory of the experience when Harry gets back, even if he needs something to get the boy's mind to go blank in shock to let him take over.

"Let's head back to Lilly's room, shall we? You seem to like her a lot and she gets done with classes an hour early on Fridays." Snape proceeds to head in that direction, adjusting easily to all of Voldemort's squirming attempts to escape and his desperate grasping at the accidental magic that won't come.

:It just  _happens_  for that irritating boy, why can't I get any bursts of super speed?: Voldemort grouses. He finally settles back with poor grace into the bony grip of his former… future… potential? Servant. At the thought his expression becomes even more thunderous. :I haven't felt so helpless since I was a disembodied spirit. No, no- then I could possess people and flit through walls.: He crosses his arms and huffs. :I haven't felt so helpless since I possessed that gods-forsaken baby and had to have Wormtail carry me about.: Voldemort finally says with a sigh, rubbing his temples. :I'm beginning to see Harry's point about suicide. Who wants to live forever with all this indignity?: He grouses.

"Severus!" Lily cries happily when she opens her portrait to his knock. "You're early." She looks down. "And you brought Harry!" She squeals in delight.

:I tracked you down, killed your husband and then murdered you in front of your child.: Voldemort informs her.

"Oh isn't he adorable when he's grumpy?" She coos. "With those gorgeous red eyes!" She turns to Snape. "Do they turn that color ever time he's in a mood?"

Snape shrugs with a grin, apparently seeing nothing particularly unusual about the changing eye colors.

:I enjoyed seeing you beg for your sorry spawn's life immensely and would be happy to murder you again! This time you can watch your son die in front of your eyes  _first_ : He snarls.

"There, there." Lilly chortles happily, taking Voldemort from her lover's arms. "We'll cheer you up." She turns back into her rooms, leaving a chuckling Snape to close the portrait behind them.

oOoOoOo

"Albus, we have a problem." Tom says, calmly enough that he congratulates himself mentally on not being a total disgrace to his House.

"Don't we always." The Headmaster sighs, sitting back from the paperwork he had been going over. "Harry?"

"He exorcised himself."

"Of course he did." Albus sighs. "Is he back to being unresponsive?"

"No, the soul of… well… me, I suppose…" Tom sits back on his heals and thinks about that for a second. It had been hard to think about something as malevolent as that red eyed hissing thing as a version of himself, but it really was.

Albus chokes on the lemon drop he had just popped into his mouth. Only a quick Heimlich charm saves his life. Tears streaming down his red face Albus asks, "Why exactly are you so calm about a Soul ripping Dark Lord walking in our midst?"

"Well, he can only speak Parseltongue." Tom grins.

"Indeed." Albus doesn't look any less worried.

"If I've told you once I've told you a thousand times Albus, it is not a Dark ability! The only spells known are for aiding in homeostasis and shedding."

oOoOoOo

"Ooh, Sev, is it getting hot in here or is that just you?" Lilly coos.

Voldemort, heartily tired of the woman and her cooing and desperately trying to get his wand to do anything that will not worsen the situation, wriggles with mounting panic between the two lovebirds.

"It's getting pretty steamy as well." Snape leans forward.

:Merlin save me from teenage hormones!: Voldemort hisses with as much indignation as he can manage, which, being a Dark Lord, is quite a bit.

oOoOoOo

"I see." Albus says, narrowing his eyes. "Are you sure of that."

"I'm still alive and healthy aren't I?" Tom asks cheerfully. "If Voldemort could have done anything I'm pretty sure he would have. I have never heard such inventive usage of Parseltongue. I was almost positive that there were certain ideas that could simply not be expressed in the snake language." He shakes his head. "But my real worry is poor Harry. He is not the dominant personality, of course, but…"

"You are worried that the boy has caused permanent harm to himself." Albus states, leaning back and sucking on the lemon drop. "Very possible."

Tom collapses into one of the seats in front of the Headmaster's desk. "I know. All of my research… it is impossible to say for certain who was the original owner of the body, if either of them were, seeing as it crossed dimensions and was not in either's original form. Or even time." He rubs his hand over his face.

"Of course, before today we had no idea there was such a thing as an exorcism curse." Dumbeldore muses. "I do believe this means I need to do something I really didn't want to do."

"What's that, Albus?" Tom asks worriedly.

"Figure out how to restore Binns."

Tom groans. "Do you think we can do it in secret and then banish him again? I was really looking forward to hiring a new teacher for that class for the first time in almost a century… maybe finally rework the curriculum…"

Albus twinkles at the man in front of him. "Which would you rather have, Tom- Harry back or a new History curriculum?"

"Right." Tom stands, with much more energy than he had a few minutes ago. "I believe it is off to Eleanor's office."

"Eleanor?" Albus blinks.

"Surely you know that she is into the 'unseen world' and all that rot." Tom says, waving his hand dismissively. "The way she acts should be a dead give-a-way."

Dumbledore strokes his beard and hums. "Yes of course, of course- she does have a rather good collection. But I would think that you would want to go to Juniper first. Her people have a rather more practical regard for ghost-craft and looking into the beyond."

Tom perks up even more. "Of course, why didn't I think of that? Maybe she has one of the DreamCatcher plants in one of the greenhouses. I'm almost positive there is a potion for channeling spirits that uses some of its sap."

"Carry on my boy, I shall see what I can get done from here." Albus chuckles as Tom leaves the office, his determined gleam back in his eye. Nothing can stand in Tom's way when he sets his mind to it. The thought instantly sobers the Headmaster, however. "Perhaps I should go check on the other one." He says, rising and leaving through the other door to his office.

oOoOoOo

"It's actually getting a downright nasty in here." Lilly pouts, throwing her blouse after the wool robe slumped in the corner. She and Severus work side by side, trying to dry the perishables in the room of condensation and cover all the makeup that is slowly turning into goop.

Voldemort hisses furiously in the corner, trying to get the wand to open the door to the room, or a window, or do  _anything_  rather than continue to raise the heat and humidity in the room.

"It is rather odd." Snape says, snapping his fingers to call an elf.

"Pinky is here, sir… what… what is happenings?" The house elf's ears stand straight up in alarm. "The weather in here is being unpleasant."

"We know. Can you see if there is some sort of spell going wrong?" Severus asks, using his shirt to wipe off his forehead then tossing it into the corner with Lilly's. He stops his work when his eyes catch the near see-through of Lilly's lacy bra.

"Maybe we should just go to your room for a bit, I think this is all… Severus?"

All the reply she gets is an unintelligent grunt. "Severus!" Lilly yells, whacking him upside the head with a wet sock.

"Hey!" Snape protests, raising his arms protectively.

"Look me in the eyes when you're talking to me!" Lilly growls menacingly. Voldemort stops his futile attempts to get anything useful done and looks up hopefully at the rising aura of violence.

"Oh you're one to talk." Snape smirks, noting Lilly's eyes wandering south along his bare chest.

Lilly realizes where her gaze has taken itself and a muscle in the corner of her eye twitches. That is all the warning Severus gets before she jumps him brandishing the sock. Snape falls over with an 'oomph' and a crash knocking into a plush chair and then falling to the floor. Voldemort jumps to his feet in excitement, hissing encouragements for violence and pain as Lilly wraps the sock around Snape's neck and one protective arm.

"Lilly!" Snape manages to get out. His face is in an expression seeming torn between lust and fear.

:Great job! Now cast something light to set the mood like a  _Crucio_  or  _Conflagulus!_ : Voldemort squeals (hisses) in delight.

Just then the door opens with a crash. "My goodness, the frame seems to have expanded somehow and…" Dumbledore trails off as he looks from the water-swollen picture frame to the occupants of the room- Voldemort with his arms raised in the air cheering on a mostly naked Lilly straddling a barely protesting and similarly half naked Severus' chest and attempting to strangle and/or tie him up. All three are frozen in their compromising positions with their heads turned towards the doorway and the bemused Headmaster standing in it.

"Ah, open the windows. That would work." Lilly muses finally, breaking the silence.

"I'll just take young Harry off your hands, then, shall I?" Dumbledore says mildly, Summoning the hissing youth to him.

:Let me go you great old coot! It was just getting good. Once Harry's back I'll have enough mental images to break his mind into a million tiny pieces and maintain my supremacy until the end of time!:

Dumbledore drags Voldemort out of the sauna that was once Lilly's quarters and kicks the door as shut as it is going to go, which is not nearly enough for decency. He leaves the two inside to deal with that and drags the protesting Dark Lord after him, both uncaring as well as unable to hear the curses being sent his way.

OoOoOoO

Much later Voldemort is sulking in one of Dumbledore's chairs, glaring at the man as he references several large and dusty tomes and jots down some notes.

"It really is a shame that there is no known translation spell for Parseltongue." Dumbledore muses, quiet enough that Voldemort has to lean forward to hear it. "Just to think that with such a spell you could be taking over the world right now." Dumbledore smiles inwardly when a stream of hissing pours from the boy's mouth again. He rather enjoys it as a pleasant background noise for his studies. Rather like a waterfall, or birds chirping in the background.

"Is the Headmaster wanting Bimpy to be bringing supper to his office?" A House elf pops in to inquire.

"Goodness me, no." Dumbledore looks at one of the spinning devices on his shelf. "Look at that time. We should get to dinner, Harry." Voldemort sends an even more deadly glare at the Headmaster, who retaliates with a brightening twinkle. "Why don't you escort Mr. O'Donnell to his place at the Slytherin tables, Bimpy?" Albus says, musing that being malicious really is too much fun to allow himself more frequent usage.

Voldemort clenches his jaw so tightly that all the muscles seem to be doing the cha-cha around his face. The house elf drags him backwards all the way to the Great Hall, the almost equally sized Voldemort dragging his heals in the entire way and Dumbledore nearly skipping along behind.

Once seated by his dorm mates Voldemort grabs the nearest meat item and proceeds to tear it to pieces with his bare hands and teeth, chewing and swallowing some of it.

"Are you all right Harry?" At Jeff's question Voldemort uses the remainder of the drumstick to whack the larger boy on the head. "Ow!" Jeff retorts, easily plucking the bone away from the tiny Dark Lord. "You shouldn't do that when…"

:Care to finish that threat?: Voldemort hisses maliciously, almost thinking the other boy heard him when his eyes widen comically. But alas, he is looking over the diminutive He Who Must Not Be Named's shoulder. Voldemort tenses right before he is scooped up into a massive hug and lifted from the seat.

"Oh, my poor dear! I've been hearing what an awful time you've been having." A feminine voice coos in his ear. Voldemort's hand twitches around his wand handle reflexively at the tone. "I'm so sorry it took so long to get away, dear, but the beginning of the Hogwarts school year is always busy at the orphanage." The female sighs dramatically into his ear.

"Myrtle, dear, don't crush him." Comes an amused voice from behind the both of them. Voldemort is swung around so abruptly he feels a bit ill, coming face to chest with Tom as they both gasp in pain. Tom backs away hurriedly.

"What's wrong, Tom?" Myrtle asks. Voldemort feels hands spinning him around and lifting him so that he is face to face with the woman's face. "I think you scared my poor husband with that scowling face, dear Harry." Myrtle smiles at him.

:I now realize that letting you die so quickly was a mistake. Next time I will tell the basilisk to keep her eyes closed and bite you instead.: Voldemort hisses spitefully before the full import of what he said caught up to his brain. A wicked gleam starts in his widening eyes. :Basilisk…: He hisses slowly, savoring the feel of the word in his mouth, tasting victory and sweet sweet revenge within his grasp.

Pain flares in his chest as he is grabbed away from Myrtle, who starts to moan about her poor baby being ripped from her arms.

Voldemort gasps at the clenching, tearing feeling in his heart and squirms with quickly weakening force. :Put me down you idiot!: He snaps at Tom, plucking at the other man's fingers to try to make him let go.

:What. Basilisk.: Tom replies, a dangerous edge to his voice. Voldemort kicks himself mentally and vows revenge on Dumbledore (again) for getting him in the habit of cursing people haphazardly in his office.

:I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about.: Voldemort replies coolly. :But if you don't let me down in a moment we will both see if this pain will kill us, rip our souls from our body or join them to one. Won't that be a fun experiment.:

Tom grunts but releases Voldemort. Whether from the increasing weakness or on purpose Voldemort doesn't care. The second his feet touch the ground he takes off running toward the girl's lavatory.

"Catch him!" Tom yells, sprinting after Voldemort. Lacking in any enhanced speed Voldemort despairs of making it until he realizes that his small size and light frame make it easy to slip around the people trying half-heartedly to grab him. He looks back briefly and sees Tom getting tangled in those same people's arms. Grinning maniacally he breaks through the crowd in the Great Hall and darts off to the bathroom. He hears Tom crash into a doorway just as he skids to a stop in front of the sinks.

:Open!: He commands, leaps into the hole and calls :Close!: up at the rapidly shrinking light of the entrance. Cackling/hissing maniacally Voldemort slides into the Chamber of Secrets.


	8. Pranks Are Overrated

"Well, Harry. That was a surprisingly stupid idea."

Harry opens his eyes warily, blinking and squinting a bit in the strong light. In front of him sits… "Sirius!" The older wizard looks to be several years older than the one Harry most recently met, though not quite as old as he was when he died in Harry's original dimension. There is a gleam to his eye that hints of time spent in Azkaban, though the reminder is worn more as an identifier than as remaining pain. "I'm back? You're alive?"

"No." Comes another voice. Harry whips around to see his father, looking quite a lot like the one in the dimension Harry just left.

"Dad?" Harry voice quavers a bit when he asks the question.

"The one and only." James grins.

"Well, not exactly, Prongs." Sirius retorts.

"Quite right." James puts a finger on his chin pensively.

"So… I'm dead?" Harry asks slowly. "Where's Voldemort?" He stands and looks around frantically, noticing as he does that he seems to be in King's Cross Station.

"He's still in the body we made for you guys." James says, sighing and crossing his arms.

"The body  _you_  made for us?" Harry asks, edging away from the two men warily. This must be one of Voldemort's traps to confuse him.

"Sure!" Sirius jumps to his feet as well. "It was the perfect opportunity to prank ol' Voldie so hard he regretted being born, much less messing with the Marauders!" Sirius proclaims, gesturing expressively with his arms.

Harry looks at his Sirius, suddenly realizing that the irresponsible behavior of the new dimensions Sirius and James are if nothing else  _tamer_ than his parent and godfather. "Don't you guys think that that was a bit… insensitive?" Harry asks finally, interrupting Sirius and James who had put their arms on each other's shoulders, gestured off into the distance and been staring off into space with shining eyes.

James looks at Harry quizzically. "I guess, but don't you think the bastard deserved it? You know, being trapped in a kid's body, powerless and all."

Harry glares at the two men. "Not him. ME!" Harry looks at their puzzled looks and feels a growl starting in the back of his throat.

"Don't mind them, dear, they're both idiots." A lilting voice comes from behind him as an arm rests on his shoulder.

Harry turns to see his mother. Like his father, she died quite close to the time of the reality he had just come from, so physically she looks no different. Except for the warm look in her eyes looking at her son, they would be impossible to differentiate. "Mum." He gasps, his throat closing up a bit. "I'm in heaven?"

Lily chuckles. "Almost, Harry. You are at a crossroads."

"I thought we were in a rail station." Sirius quips. "Ouch!" He adds when James smacks him.

Lily sighs. "We are in a place where it is still possible for you to go forward or back, Harry." Lily continues. "The exact nature is impossible for the living to completely understand, which is why your mind has constructed this station as the closest approximation."

"Right." Harry says, looking at Lily oddly. She is reminding him entirely too much of Dumbledore. Though with the straight answers, perhaps not. "So I can er… 'move on' then?" Harry asks. The idea is suddenly almost irresistible. Being able to stop… stop worrying, stop fighting, just stop! The idea seems wonderful.

"Yeah, you could." Sirius says off-handedly.

"Or you could go back for a bit to give Voldie more of a hard time." James leans forward as he says this. "Give him hell for your old man's sake."

Harry closes his eyes and sighs. Apparently third time is not the charm. "The universe seems to be obsessed with seeing me die of old age."

"Not the universe, just us." James says cheerfully.

"I don't want to go back? Can't I just…" Harry trails off. Just what? Let the innocent universe that his parents had shipped him off too deal with that monster by itself? Just avoid his responsibilities and the prophecy that had shaped his whole life? His whole existence?

"You can stay if you want, Harry." Lily says kindly

oOoOoOoOo

"I don't know what he did." Tom says for the third time, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Well, start with something simple, right dear?" Myrtle reassures her husband, walking over to him and putting an arm around his waist. Tom leans in and sighs.

"I've tried all the unlocking spells I can think of." He turns to Albus skeptically. "Are you sure that you don't know this secret passage?"

"No." Dumbledore replies, pulling on his beard in confused worry.

"Maybe there is a physical trigger?" Severus muses as he starts to poke the various angles and facets of the sink.

"If that were so, Severus, I'm fairly sure I would have discovered this passage when I was in school." Myrtle says wryly. "Probably ended up living there for a good portion of the time as well."

oOoOoOoOo

:I don't know.: The basilisk looks dubious as only a fifty foot reptile can. She has her nictating membranes covering her eyes as she peers at the tiny person in front of her (so as not to accidentally kill her first visitor in near a millennia). :You don't smell like an heir of Slytherin.:

:What are you talking about?: Voldemort hisses indignantly. :I AM a heir of Slytherin. I'm even talking to you in Parseltongue.:

The basilisk flicks her tongue out a few times pensively. :True you are Speaking, however, you also don't smell of human magic.:

:What?: Voldemort asks blankly, confused enough to ignore how frustrated he is at the moment.

:You smell of Parsel-magics.: The basilisk continues, unhelpfully.

Voldemort begins to lose interest and become irritated once more. He raises his wand threateningly.

The snake calls his bluff. :Ah, you wish to prove that you can cast human magic, then?: She lowers his nose closer to the floor.

Voldemort lets off a string of hissing invectives, wondering how much moisture it would take to kill a several thousand year old reptile.

:Aha! I knew it.: The snake looks smug. Voldemort has a brief and unwelcome moment of empathy for Harry. Basilisks pulled off smug entirely too well. :Well, it's not unusual.: The basilisk continues, sliding up to get off the cold wet floor and curls instead around the head of Salazar.

:What's not unusual.: Voldemort asks petulantly.

:For a wizard that can only speak Parseltongue to try to writhe into the Slytherin line.: The basilisk yawns, her poison fangs stretching far forward before settling one after the other back into her jaws. :After all, most of Slytherin's children were Speakers, too. It was really the only place in the world where they weren't thought mad.:

:Since when is Parseltongue common?: Voldemort asks suspiciously.

The basilisk's clear third eyelid slid back a bit in her agitation. :Youngling, it is one of the great languages. How could it be anything but common?:

Voldemort leans forward eagerly. :Great languages?: He asks.

The basilisk sniffs. :Of course. Speaking with snakes is of course the most noble, but many wizards can speak with beasts.:

:Which ones?: Voldemort asks, marveling that this information had never come to light in the other universe. Granted, it is not directly related to power of any sort, but perhaps if he can find a line of speakers of any sort of beast language he can find someone other than his counterpart to corrupt. Er… speak to.

:What do I know of lesser beasts?: The basilisk looks horribly affronted. :And why are you asking all these questions? Surely you can just ask a Parseltongue to translate for you to ask the wizards these questions.: Now she looks suspicious.

Voldemort contemplates if he wants to redirect the conversation to more information or if the great snake has irritated him enough to crush her world view. His mouth twists into a sneer. :In the time you've been hiding in this basement Parseltongue has become rare in the world. There have only been two in the past several centuries- myself and one other.:

The basilisk rears back and gasps. Voldemort averts his eyes with a snicker, knowing that this agitated the eyes will be fully unveiled. He hadn't been looking at her directly this whole time, but judging by the thrashing noises her head must be weaving quite erratically.

:You lie! Who let the noble bloodline die out?:

:The current head of the family keeps adopting children instead of having his own.: Voldemort says innocently, keeping his head bowed to avoid hide his grin.

:This will not be tolerated!: The basilisk hisses furiously, shooting past him so fast the wind whips his clothing.

oOoOoOo

"Maybe if you tell it to open?" Jeff asks from where he is sitting on the bathroom floor.

"Jeff, we're trying to think of something here." Tom says, reigning in hard on his emotions so that he doesn't lash out at his undeserving adopted son.

"Well not in English, obviously." Jeff says with a yawn. "It's Mr. Slytherin's chamber, so you should talk to it like you do to us when you want to be scary. You know, Parseltongue."

"Yes, obviously." Tom mutters, bemused. :Open?: He hisses at the sink. Immediately the magic catches and the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets begins to rearrange into a recognizable passage.

Just in time for an irate millennia old basilisk to shoot out of it.

"AH!" Come screams from all directions. Tom brings his wand to bear on the large serpent while Myrtle gets the boys out of the bathroom.

:Who is the Speaker here! I know one of you opened the door, else I would still be stuck in the pipes.: She narrows her fully revealed and deadly eyes and sweeps her head back and forth. She opens her mouth threateningly when she notices that the humans seem to be unaffected with a glare that should have turned them all to stone.

"Everyone, slowly aim your wand at the basilisk." Dumbledore says, warily doing the same. "On the count of three, Stunners."

"Wait, let me try to talk to her." Tom says. He turns back to the large snake.

:Why are you not turning as you should? Why are you still flesh.: The basilisk gets a contemplative look in her eye. :I could still eat you all… I've had small rodents for quite some time…:

:We have a charm for our eyes that was developed to withstand basilisk stares, my Lady.: Tom interrupts the basilisk hastily. :Though it is being sorely tested by your awesome strength.

Tom breaths a sigh of relief as the basilisk seems to preen under the praise. But then she remembers her mission. :You must be the one not sowing your seed as you should.: She glares with renewed intensity at Tom. He averts his eyes as he feels the charm sending out the built-in tingles warning it is under stress.

:I'm not sure…:

:Adopting! Why are you taking other's progeny rather than making as many of your own as possible?:

:I-Wh-Y-Tha-: Tom sputters indignantly, turning a bit red even though he knows that no one else can understand the snake.

:The little one tells me that there are only the two of you left who can Speak in this world, and that you are both the result of accident! Thank the great snake you are both male- you must both mate with as many females as possible to ensure the continuation of the line.: The basilisk continues.

:This is why I never talk to snakes.: Tom mutters to himself, blushing but refusing to answer the queries of the Headmaster beyond waving him off that everything is alright.

:Would that I were a human. I could help… Perhaps if I threaten to bite people who resist you? Or we can get them all to look upon my gaze through a mirror- Petrified women can still have children, after all…:

:Stop! Stop!: Tom grates out, completely appalled.

The basilisk hisses contemplatively and lowers her head yet further to address Tom. :Well, are you going to make plans, then?:

:Firstly- I am not going to go about impregnating women. Humans are monogamous.:

:You can't make an exception?: The snake asks hopefully. :Your clutch sizes are so small that it is unlikely you will be able to spread your seed sufficiently before succumbing to old age.:

Tom presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, takes a deep breath and continues. :And secondly, Myrtle and I already have three children.:

:Speakers?: The basilisk perks up significantly.

:No.: Tom sighs.

:Well, you need to keep trying, then.: She says in a reasonable tone of voice.

:I can't believe I'm discussing this with you.: Tom says with some despair.

:I'm only doing what any basilisk would do.: She points out. More calm, she winds her great length up from the Chamber and about the girls lavatory. :We have long been allies of the Speakers. As the greatest of snakes it is our duty.: She intones.

Riddle sneaks a look up at the snake and sees that her third eyelids have covered her deadly eyes once again. :Hmm.: Tom hisses noncommittally.

:You are still trying, aren't you? For a child who Speaks? I was told that it is never as satisfying to speak with snakes as with other humans. Well, except for basilisks of course. That is always better.: She hisses contentedly.

Tom starts a bit at the words. He hadn't really noticed with Harry waking up and being from another dimension, telling him he could have become a Dark Lord and then being possessed by said spirit… but the great snake is right. There is a part of him he hadn't even known was despondent that is fulfilled with being able to speak intelligently in this Magic-gifted Tongue.

The snake suddenly tenses. :This means the little runt lied to me.: She seems totally insulted.

:Well he  _is_  a Slytherin.: Tom says almost under his breath. The basilisk, however, hears him.

:Slytherins do not  _lie_. They are practical, snake-like people.: She says indignantly, eyeing Tom like he is some sort of alien. :Once I am through with him I am going to have a long talk with you about what it means to be a proper snake.:

:Wait!: Tom calls, but all he is talking to is the very tip of the basilisk's tail as she slips back into the Chamber and out of sight.

"Well done, Tom." Albus congratulates him. "You seem to have negotiated brilliantly." The Headmaster peers at the younger wizard curiously. "What was it saying to you that made you blush so…"

"I don't want to talk about it." Tom cuts him off before escaping by jumping into the Chamber.

"Oh dear." Albus says, a twinkle in the corner of his eye.

"Is it safe, then?" Myrtle asks from around the corner. "I sent Severus to take Jeff back to the dorms, which we probably should have done in the first place."

"Quite safe my dear, thanks to your Charm." Dumbledore says, twinkling a bit more at his joke, especially when it is deftly ignored.

"Yes, well. I defy you to go to school with Hagrid and not develop a healthy respect for dangerous beasts and a damned good method for figuring out safety procedures." She says absently. "Are we supposed to go in after him?" Myrtle asks with a tone that seems to add 'like usual, that damn fool of a man' to the end of her question.

"I'm sure the two of us can handle it, my dear." Dumbledore says, thinking that otherwise Tom will be unable to say anything in the presence of his wife due to the still active Command.

"If you say so." Myrtle still looks dubious so Dumbledore tries another angle of attack.

"You should probably go talk to poor Jeff. He is probably taking this as a personal failure, what happened to poor Harry."

"Oh!" Myrtle says, snapping out of plans to follow her husband. Albus gives an internal sigh of relief. "You're right, the poor boy. Well, make sure to bring that phoenix along with you, Albus. They are wonderful protection against basilisks." With that she makes off in the direction of the dungeons.

oOoOoOo

Tom hurries after the basilisk and finds himself coming upon a very bizarre argument indeed.

:Slytherins are sneaky!: Voldemort growls (while hissing- Tom admits to being impressed).

: _Ravenclaws_  are sneaky- always using logic to tie you up into knots so complex you can't feel your tail anymore. Slytherins are pragmatic and practical.: The basilisk hotly protests.

:Don't be ridiculous. How in the world can you get power by being straightforward? You're talking like a Hufflepuff:

: Have you ever met one of the Founders? No? Then stop telling me that I'm wrong when you are mixing up all their prized traits.: The basilisk sneers.

:The Sorting Hat is every bit as old as you are and a magical artifact to boot. As such not susceptible to  _age related problems_.: Voldemort sneers back.

:Oh, so now you are going to trust  _Gryffindor's_  favorite hat that's growing mold first nourished by his overly enthusiastic sweat over the hand-picked guardian of the bloodline?: The snake whacks her tail on the floor. Tom barely jumps out of the way in time and ends up soaked through from the splash. As amusing and enlightening as the conversation is, Tom edges into position for a sneak attack before the basilisk or the diminutive Dark Lord notice his presence.

" _Petrificus Totalis!"_  Tom calls as he leaps from behind the basilisk.

:Protego!: Retorts Voldemort. Steam puffs from the end of his wand. He looks at it incredulously before toppling over onto his face.

oOoOoOo

Sirius and James were starting to annoy Harry. He still is happy to see them again, but it's getting to the point where his is getting nostalgic about missing them.

"See- it was going to be the ultimate prank of all time!" Sirius gushes. Harry sighs- he's used that description before.

James picks up. "Imagine- the man is terrified of death, right? So what better than to make him immortal, but be a subservient spirit for all eternity? And subservient to the baby that kicked his ass without trying."

"Wait!" Harry cuts in, his attention coming back to the two men. "What do you mean immortal?"

"You're each other's Horucrux, right? So in the same body essentially you're immortal." James explains with a twinkle in his eye.

Harry looks at them, appalled. "I don't want to be immortal! This is what I was talking about when I said you two were being insensitive." He says, at a loss.

"Harry, take one for the team. It's the best prank in  _history."_

"One for the team? You are absolutely mental. I would never get to die, you realize. Never get to come back here. Never get to see you  _idiots_ ever again!" Harry started off fairly calm but by the end of it is screaming at the two dead wizards in front of him.

"Merlin's big, hairy balls." James says after a long silence. "You're right."

"Well, there was some other reason, too, that Dumbledore was trying to get us to tell you. But honestly, it wasn't as brilliant as an interdimensional prank war." Sirius says shakily.

"And Snivellus came up with it." Sirius adds. "Don't forget that."

"What was this other reason." Harry grates out.

"My boy, I was waiting for you to think of me."

 


	9. Karma's a Female Dog

"Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives." Dumbledore says sadly.

Harry glares at him. He is perfectly aware of what the prophecy says and is heartily tired of people quoting it to him all the time. "I know, and that's what I did- gathered all the pieces of that megalomaniac's soul together and destroyed them."

"Ah." Dumbledore says, stroking his beard.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly. He knows the Headmaster isn't going to say anything more until Harry asks him a question. Harry also knows that he is in no mood to play the old man… spirit… Dumbledore's games. After staring at each other for several moments, the older wizard sucking on an ethereal lemon drop and Harry grinding his teeth, the younger finally breaks. "What exactly is wrong with what I did, hmm?"

"Oh, my." Dumbledore says, smiling contentedly and twinkling. " Well you had the general idea right, my boy- but the problem is 'either must die at the hand of the other.' Technically speaking, you died first. By your own hand."

"But if that's what the Prophecy says then I couldn't have killed myself in the first place." Harry is now almost as confused as he is frustrated.

"Exactly."

"Exactly?"

"Note that you didn't die." Dumbledore says, stroking his beard.

Harry's jaw drops open and he just stares at the other wizard.

"My boy, while there are no flies at these Crossroads, you might want to close your mouth." Dumbledore chuckles.

"B… Tha…. No!… Someone…" Harry splutters, gesturing randomly.

"Indeed, Harry. You put us in quite the tight spot! The Powers That Be were going to make us do it all over again."

"Again?" Harry repeats, feeling faint.

"Oh, yes. With karmic debt." Dumbledore shakes his head sadly.

"Say what?" Harry isn't sure what 'karmic debt' is, but every time Dumbledore has looked like that in the past, he was about to say something really horrible. Like, 'the Dementors have joined Voldemort' or 'I spiked that lemon drop with Lust Potion- oh hello Minerva!' or 'Alas, earwax.'

"For failing, you see. We didn't get it to turn out quite as it was supposed to. You were supposed to die but end up living, for example." Dumbledore pauses, looking pained. "The penalties they were proposing were quite harsh." He leaned forward, looking at Harry intently. "You remember the Dursleys my boy?"

"Rather hard to forget the people who raised you." Harry says, still intimidated by the air that Dumbledore is inducing but puzzled at the seeming non-sequitur. "They were alright. I have enough socks to last me the rest of my life." Harry thinks back to the sheer creativeness his aunt and uncle had displayed with 15 years of socks for Christmas- some of the ones he had gotten were truly  _odd._

Dumbledore for a second looks even more deathly serious. "Never underestimate the power of a good pair of socks."

"Um, okay." Harry says, disturbed as Dumbledore's expression becomes more mild when he goes back to the topic of them having to live their lives over again with 'debt.'

"The PTB were suggesting that your debt consist of the Dursleys keeping you in a broom cupboard."

"A  _broom_  cupboard?" Harry interrupts incredulously.

Dumbledore continues seemingly without hearing. "And instead of socks every Christmas, only one sock. Ever. Dirty, and  _without its pair._ " Dumbledore shakes his head sadly.

"They were going to make me live through child abuse as punishment for trying to save the world?" Harry asks incredulously, unsure whether he feels hysterical or just mad.

"The Dursleys, it seems, did everything they were supposed to. As such, they get rewarded."

"My relatives want to lock me in a broom cupboard?" Harry asks, dazed.

"And make you work like a house elf, not just weed the garden on Saturdays for allowance." Dumbledore continues with a nod. "Fortunately Severus came up with a solution that satisfied the PTB."

Harry almost asks how the current solution could really be called anything of the sort, but then has a sudden thought. "What were they going to do to Snape?" Harry asks suspiciously.

"Ah. Apparently, they thought it would be marvelous to make him completely obsessed with your mother." Dumbledore looks over his glasses at Harry. "As you can see from the reality you ended up in, they had an attraction, and did know each other as children. However, you will be pleased to know that in our world that didn't last much past the Sorting, and Snape moved on. He was something of a ladies' man with the Deatheaters, so I'm told."

Harry's face gets a particularly sour look on it as he starts to imagine such a thing, so he roughly shoves the image out of his mind.

Dumbledore pauses dramatically. "So they were going to make it so that he would feel guilty at her death, so much so that he would never touch another woman in his life."

Harry, though he spared no love for the cranky Potions master, found he did have enough of a purely male sentiment to be horrified. "Never?"

"Dies a virgin." Dumbledore confirms.

"Wow." Compared to that, living in a cupboard and working like a slave seems pretty tame. "I can see where he would want to avoid that. At least he doesn't live all that long and dies pretty spectacularly." Harry says, not sure if that really makes up for it. No sex?!

"Actually, they were going to have him die rather anticlimactically pouring out all his deepest secrets to you." Dumbledore muses.

"What did he  _do_  to these beings?" Harry asks, appalled.

"Remember when you fell off your cursed broom? When that hypogriff mauled you after if got Malfoy? When you failed Potions? Fell though that trapped stair and Peeves had to fish you out of the insulation?"

"With a liberal helping of Dungbombs? Who could forget?" Harry sighs.

"Ah. Severus was supposed to prevent all those things, but he still is somewhat irritated with your father." Dumbledore nods to himself. "And they were going to make his hair not just greasy- but literally impossible to get clean."

"That's just petty." Harry says, though his lips quirk up a bit at the thought.

"Yes, well. Severus came up with the idea of letting the two of you figure out a better way to come to a conclusion on all this. I thought it would be a wonderful opportunity for both you and Tom to have the childhood you were denied and come to peace."

"Oh. Well that went sort of pear shaped, didn't it?" Harry says sheepishly.

"Hmm."

"How are  _Voldemort_  and I supposed to come to some sort of peace with each other, though? I mean… he's a dark lord! You know,  _evil_."

"That's for you to figure out, my boy."

Harry frowns. It seems that it is too much to ask to have answers from the meddling old fool when they really matter, though perhaps hearing all the indignities Snape was going to suffer was worth it. Except… "But he's in my body! You say they were going to condemn Snape to celibacy- fine. But how am I supposed to chat up the ladies with  _Volemort_  running commentary?" He's whining. And he doesn't care.

"Harry, they would hot have set you something impossible." Dumbledore stops and considers. "And if they did, then we can try it the other way."

Harry sighs brokenly. Really it is more of a sob but he doesn't want to admit that. "What were they going to do to mother?"

"Teen pregnancy."

"Dad?"

"Mediocre Quidditch playing."

"Sirius?"

"No trial and Azkaban for thirteen years."

Harry stares at the Headmaster. "What did he do? He worked really hard during he war."

"Ah, yes. But he managed to prank the PTB after he died." Dumbledore shakes his head in a way that screams long-suffering patience for the vagaries of youth.

"Wow." Harry isn't sure whether to be impressed, annoyed of amused. "What were they going to do to you?"

"Oh, nothing."

"Nothing." Harry says flatly.

"Someone needs to remember what went wrong my boy, in order to ensure you die and come back properly." Dumbledore looks rather pleased at the thought.

"They were going to have you remember this whole thing so that you could orchestrate everyone's lives for a higher purpose?" Harry is so stunned it almost feels surreal. "How ever did you turn that down long enough to go with this plan?" He asks sarcastically.

"It was difficult, my boy. Very difficult. But I had to think of what was the Greater Good." Dumbledore looks off into the distance, his eyes glazed with happy contemplations.

"I'm ready to go back now." Harry says, more than a little disturbed.

"Excellent, most excellent." Dumbledore says with a warm smile. "Just think it and it will be done."

Harry does just that, and as quickly as possible. Karmic justice? Hah! Leaving someone as meddling as Dumbledore is  _without_  help in that sort of position- that was punishing the whole universe, not just a couple poor fools that couldn't figure out how to die properly.

OOoOOOoooOO

Tom grunted as he levered himself over the edge of the Chamber entrance, then let out an unmanly shriek as the basilisk decided she needed to help and tossed him into the air and tumbling between his wife and the Headmaster.

Voldemort's paralyzed body floats up gently, the nudge the basilisk gives him dampened by the Mobilicorpus spell.

"We should move this to someplace a bit more cozy, then?" Albus asks the assembled people.

"The ladies bathroom does have a certain atmosphere." Snape muses. Everyone stares at him and he smirks.

/What are you going to do with the young Speaker?/ The basilisk asks, resting her head on the edge of the Entrance and looking bored already.

/We will need to have a conference on the best way to deal with him./ Tom answers her, giving the Headmaster a signal that it is alright.

/You could assign him to be my caretaker./ The basilisk offers helpfully. /There is an intolerable build up of skeletons in the entryway, and the sewage removal ditch has been backed up for centuries./

Tom looks at her, turning a bit green. /We will certainly consider it./

/Good./ The basilisk raises her head and looks down at the assembled humans regally, pointedly ignoring them recasting the anti-basilisk charm over their eyes. /I will leave you to your long human discussions. But I need to talk to you later. Both of you./ She gets a shrewd gleam in her eye. /And through you perhaps the entire school. I can not stand idly by as that hat spreads Gryffindor lies any longer./

/Yes, ma'am./ Tom says humbly, a corner of his mind wondering if he wasn't supposed to be the master in this particular relationship but deciding not to argue the issue.

The basilisk slips back into the Chamber and the sinks close back over, innocently guarding the entrance once more.

"Well, to my office, then?" Albus asks.

OoOoOOoOOooO

"Myrtle, dear, if you would please let the Headmaster and I deal with this…"

"No, Tom! I am his mother as much as you are his father and I want to figure out what is wrong with him so that we can help him. We have been working with this poor boy for years and that he is finally communicating, even if it is in a magical language that only you can understand… well, that's a huge leap in progress."

"Pussy whipped." Comes the comment from the thoroughly trussed up dark lord in the corner.

Tom doesn't even spare the effort to glare at the other Parslemouth. Instead he furiously tries to think of something he can say to convince his wife to leave the room so that he and he Headmaster can discuss what to do. With anyone else in the room they cannot say anything due to the Command Harry had put on them. And it was becoming intensely frustrating to have his adoptive sons and wife spouting off increasingly wild theories while he sat there knowing the real answer but being unable to say anything. Tom opened his mouth to try another tack just as Voldemort went absolutely rigid in his bonds. Though to everyone else the boy is simply hissing, Tom can hear the screams for what they are.

"Harry! Harry dear!" Myrtle exclaims worriedly, rushing to the boy's side. Severus as well moves to his foster brother, Jeff right behind him.

Tom stays in the corner and Albus inches to his side. "What is he saying, Tom?"

"Nothing, he's screaming." Tom says, a distressed look on his face.

Finally Voldemort slump in the chair, the only things keeping him from going all the way to the floor are the bonds that were restraining him.

"Ooo."

"Harry?" Myrtle asks hopefully.

Tom turns to the older wizard by his side hurriedly. "Albus, was that a hiss?"

"No." Albus replies, a calculating look on his face.

"Wow. Just think about it and you'll be there. Right." Harry moves to rub a hand to his temples and finds them unresponsive. When he frowns at the magical restraint it skitters off in seeming terror.

"Harry!" Myrtle exclaims joyously, gathering up the small body in her arms.

"Can't… breathe!" Comes a gasp from the patch of black hair visible over Myrtle's arms. The foster mother releases him, holding Harry at arms-length and staring at him smiling.

"You're talking." She beams.

"Ye-es…" Harry says, looking puzzled before he recalls the pretense he had been keeping up. "Ah."

"Harry, my boy." Albus starts, though he stops when Harry jumps a little and squeaks. "Are you alright?"

"Er… yes. Sorry. A… bad dream?" Harry trails off with a bemused expression on his face.

"Harry, dear, what has been going on? How are you feeling?" Myrtle asks.

"You gave us a scare jumping into the Chamber of Secrets and coming out with a basilisk." Severus adds.

"I did what now?" Harry asks, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Before Severus can repeat himself, though, he continues. "You'll have to excuse me for a moment." And with that, the boy slumps in the chair again, eyes gone glassy and unfocused.

"Harry!" Three voices call in concern. When those three realize it had not been  _five_  voices, three sets of eyes turn toward the Headmaster and Head of Slytherin House, hard suspicion in their eyes.

"Tom." Myrtle says coldly.

Tom clears his throat. "Yes, dear?"

"You know about this, don't you?"

"I don't…"

"Don't play with me Tom Riddle! Tell me what you know this instant."

"Er…we can't."

"Can't, or won't?" Myrtle asks, her eyes turning dangerous.

"Can't." Tom says with a definite wince.

OoOoOOoOooOOooOoO

When Harry's soul comes back into their body, Voldemort's is shoved back from the control seat instantaneously. But instead of the anger and hate he is expecting to feel, he experiences something else entirely. It fills his chest in a way similar to how rage does, though it seems settled deeper, almost in his gut. And where rage makes him feel less aware, less conscious of the present- this feeling makes him almost painfully aware of it. It feels… it feels sort of good.

He had been marveling in the sensation for several minutes when Harry notices the lack of running commentary in his mind. That combined with the whole opening the Chamber revelation and Harry retreats from consciousness to have a little chat.

"What were you thinking?" Harry asks, annoyed having come back from an out-of-body experience and literal soul-searching, dimension altering mind walk to find Voldemort wreaking havoc. He is back partly to help the ungrateful soul even the gods had given up on, and look what he's done.

The basilisk looks at Harry with a somewhat loopy expression.

"Er… Voldemort?" Harry asks, now somewhat concerned. Had his trip back damaged the other soul somehow? It would be just Harry's luck to have ruined all chance of success before he even properly started. "Hey…" Harry says, reaching out to the basilisk. The second his fingers touch its skin, the world expands.

Harry is inside Voldemort's emotions now, finally sensing him like the other seemed to use against Harry constantly. Harry is shocked. Voldemort is… happy? And not just eating-your-favorite-ice-cream happy, either. Full blown elation.

:It's good to have you back, Harry./


	10. Spellcrafting and Technicalities

Harry is startled to feel such a rush of emotion from the other soul that is so positive. He is used to the intense rage and hate shoving through the bond, but the happiness…

Harry's arm raises somewhat laconically, his wand pointed at the skeptical looking Tom.

… the happiness feels like warmth, fuzziness, like… happy bunnies and rainbows or something similarly ridiculous.

" _Serpenlingua."_  Harry says. A flash of light envelops Tom.

:What did you just do to me?: Tom hisses.

"What the?" Harry says, the warm bubble popping and leaving him cold. /What did you just do to him?/ Harry echoes at the basilisk, who has an expression like McGonagall with a glass of warm milk.

:Nothing./ Voldemort demurs.

/You… you used your own pleasure as a bastardized  _Imperio_ , didn't you?/ Harry is torn between being incredulous, mildly impressed and really freaking angry.

If snakes could grin, Voldemort would have. :It was rather brilliant./ He allows, unable to reign his pride in enough to deny it.

/You are such a… a…/

:Dark Lord?/ Voldemort supplies wryly. :It's the bare minimum of what he deserves./

/What. Did. You. Do./

"Tom, what's wrong?" Myrtle asks, confused at his continued hissing.

:Nothing, I feel fine.: Tom looks around him at the incomprehension.

"He's not saying anything." Snape says, looking worried.

:What, I'm talking. Aren't I?:

/You made him unable to speak in English?/ Harry asks.

:Yes./

Now Harry is just confused. He doesn't see what is really all that bad about being stuck in Parseltongue. /Why?/

Instead of replying with words Voldemort touches his nose to Harry's spirit. A rush of frustration crosses between them as Voldemort rolls back from his ignoble capture by the other form of his soul due to his inability to cast spells, to the insults that he was able to throw but no one understood, to his desperate desire to escape the two hormonal teenagers and how his spells kept making them wetter, and less clothed, until Lily and Severus were…

"ARGH!" Harry screams, falling out of his chair and clawing at his eyes.

"Harry!" Myrtle exclaims, wavering only slightly before abandoning her husband for the child that cursed him.

Harry glares at Severus, who backs up a step, unnerved at the intensity of the green in the younger boy's gaze.

: _Testiculincendio_  is a marvelous spell./ Voldemort suggests. Harry fingers his wand. Snape backs up another step and licks his lips nervously. :Causes the genitals to ignite into flames./ Voldemort says temptingly.

"Hmm."

: _Cyanophalus_  is another classic choice- causes blood to rush into the penis at high speeds, causing pain worse than being kicked in the balls./ Voldemort offers when he sees Harry wavering.

Harry shakes his head. "No! What am I thinking?" Everyone gives him an odd look, though Severus looks relived, even though he's not sure about what. /I won't let you corrupt my thoughts you evil bastard./

:I'm hurt./

"Harry, dear, since you seem to have regained your voice, do you want to tell us about what happened to you?" Myrtle asks kindly, cradling the boy in her lap.

"Tell you?" He looks over to Tom and Dumbledore. Had they both gotten a case of need-to-know-itis and were keeping it from everyone else.

Myrtle follows his gaze and continues with a decided chill in her voice. "My husband claims that he cannot tell me."

"Can't or wont?" Harry asks as he looks at the two squirming wizards.

:Can't!: Tom hisses exasperatedly. When no one but Harry understands him, he turns to Dumbledore emploringly.

"Can not." Dumbledore supplies.

"Mmhmm." Myrtle says, her eyebrow cocked and lips pursed in disapproval.

:Oh by Merlin! You're the one that put the C…: Tom's voice strangles off, an odd sound when one is hissing to begin with. Harry's bright green eyes tilt to the side as he cocks his head in confusion.

"I put a what on you?" He asks, puzzled.

"A Command, my dear boy." Albus replies, looking relieved.

"Is that so." Harry says, his eyes narrowing. He grabs the tail of the basilisk before Voldemort burrows too deep in his subconscious and squeezes the information out of the other soul's mind, barely noting that he is having much fewer issues doing so since his experience. "Huh." He says finally, after assimilating the information. He notices that Tom and Albus are looking particularly tense. "Well that wasn't on purpose." He sighs. "You can talk about it if you want. I was trying to request you not blab it about to the entire world. I've already been both a 'celebrity' and 'notorious' before, and I would rather not experience either again.

"So Tom wasn't lying, he really couldn't talk about it?" Severus asks, looking a bit nervous again as Harry turns his eyes back onto the taller boy. Snape is happy to note that they are fading back to hazel, however. He cannot relax, though. The thought that the small boy in front of him could take away his free will like that- not even on purpose! He shudders internally, remembering his father with dull eyes.

"I suppose not." Harry muses.

:See, dearest, I would never lie to you.: Tom says, reaching out his hands to his wife. She sniffs and ignores him.

"So, what's the deal then, Harry?" Jeff asks, eyes bright. Albus opens his mouth, his face set in what Harry immediately interprets as the 'we should keep the children ignorant' look. He glares at the Headmaster with brilliant green and red in equal degrees.

"I'm from another dimension." Harry says.

Tom and Albus look stunned that he said it so easily.

"A what?" Jeff asks, frowning so that the freckles on his nose bunch up.

"A place very like this one, but where Tom Riddle was raised in a Muggle orphanage, came to hate them, and led a reign of terror and murder that sent the Wizarding world into chaos." Harry elaborated.

The three not in the know look at him with varying levels of shock. As it wears off Snape looks almost sick, he backs up to the wall, knowing what his life would have been like without Tom taking him from his father. Myrtle looks extremely sad, whereas Jeff's eyes begin to light up.

"So you crossed through time like in Hitchhiker's Guide on the BBC?" Jeff asked excitedly.

"Erm, sort of."

"That's brilliant!" Jeff says.

Harry just eyes him, not quite sure what to make of the reaction. Nothing about it seemed particularly amazing to him.

"You get to see how things would turn out if only one little thing were different, yeah? You don't think that's cool?" Jeff asks, losing steam. "Ooh! What time was it when you came from?"

"Er… 2008."

"How old were you, dear?" Myrtle asks softly.

"28." Harry replies, bracing for her to dump him on the ground.

"Oh you poor thing. People weren't cursing you that whole time, were they?"

"No. I had a pretty good childhood, I guess. My aunt and uncle took care of me. They weren't mean or anything, but a bit distant. Compared to what it could have been they were downright decent." Harry thinks back to the whole broom cupboard scenario with trepidation. It could still happen.

"Oh, Harry. Every child deserves love. Don't sell yourself short." With that Myrtle hugs him again.

"Ooph!"

:When are you going to reverse this spell, Harry?: Tom asks, looking annoyed and afraid.

:Never!/ Voldemort hisses in the back of Harry's mind before darting back into his subconscious.

Harry looks over at his adoptive father and notes that Dumbledore is looking frustrated and worried. "Erm…  _finitum incantatum_?" He says, waving his wand awkwardly around the arms binding him into a hug.

"Can you understand me?" Tom asks, sounding plaintive.

"Yes." Albus says, eying Harry. Harry eyes him back, not happy with the look he's getting from the man who could have been his friend, but always ends up meddling in ways that Harry can't agree with. "What are we going to do with you?"

:Can we go back to school?/ Voldemort asks, feelings of wistfulness surprising Harry.

As he can't find a reason not too, Harry repeats Voldemort's request. "Can w-I go back to class?" Due to almost sounding schizoid, Harry almost doesn't feel the pulse of surprise from the other soul. But when he probes all he gets in response is icy aloofness.

"I don't see why not." Tom says, looking pleased. Dumbledore, however, seems to have a few (or many) misgivings.

"I can take a Wizarding Oath not to harm the students, if you like." Harry offers.

"That certainly won't be necessary!" Myrtle exclaims.

"Perhaps it will be." Dumbledore mutters.

"He's only a child, Albus." Tom says, though he looks like he is considering it as well.

"He is 28 years old, he said it himself. He is fully old enough to not only be out of school but to make an Oath such as this." Dumbledore's voice is steely.

"I think not, Headmaster." Myrtle says, standing up, still cradling Harry. Harry can't find it in himself to protest, as he is tired from the metaphysical journey and rather enjoying the maternal feelings directed at him for the first time he can remember. "There is a precedent for this- when seers remember past lives, they are not considered to be the age of their combined experiences, but their physical age. At the very most, young Harry has only been 'alive' in this world for three years."

"That only applies to people who were  _born_." Albus rebuts, looking almost as intense as Harry has ever seen him. He wonders what he did to deserve it briefly, before remembering all the reasons why. Not only did he subvert the old wizard's will in a version of the Imperious that is only technically not Unforgivable, but he admitted to having a mass murderer as a semi-dominant passenger.

"And you can prove that our Harry was not born here, can you Albus?" Myrtle asks coolly.

"And you can prove he was?" Albus almost sneers back.

"Burden of proof, my dear." Myrtle throws back the Headmaster's favorite patronizing phrase at him with eyes cold and sharp as shards of ice.

Harry's eyes flicker to Tom's to see the reaction of the only other person aware that he is a megalomaniac and is surprised and a bit disgusted to find the man looking at his wife with obvious lust.

"Severus." Snape jumps in his corner, looking panicked. "Why don't you take the two boys back to their dorm, while your father and I leave for our own… discussions." Myrtle says, having noticed her husband's look as well.

"Yes." Snape replies, looking like he has agreed to his own death sentence. Myrtle puts Harry on the ground gently and shoos all three boys out in front of her, with Tom strolling behind. Harry looks over his shoulder worriedly to get his last glimpse of the Headmaster's unreadable expression.

OoooOoOooOOo

Harry is so exhausted he doesn't quite make it back to the dorm. Severus picks him up and carries him. Though Snape twitches until depositing Harry in his bed, the younger boy does not wake up.

"What's wrong, Sev?" Jeff asks. "Aren't you happy Harry can talk now?"

"I… yes." He replies, looking at the smiling face of the younger boy before Jeff's mouth cracks open with a yawn. "You should be in bed as well."

"Ok. Tuck me in?" Jeff asks. Severus complies, using his hands rather than his wand to give himself something domestic to do to take his mind off of the boy in the other bed. "Why are you afraid of Harry?" Jeff asks, his voice muffled by the layers of sheets.

"He can control people, Jeff. No one should have that power." Severus says finally.

"Aw, you know Harry. He wouldn't do something like that."

"Do we?" Severus asks quietly, thinking back to the hard green eyes with a shudder, knowing them to be the look of someone who had gone though a hell much worse than he had, and not necessarily coming out of it intact. "Good night, Jeff." He says finally, patting the covers and making his way out of the dorm.

"'Night, Sev." Jeff murmurs before falling asleep himself.


	11. MoM

"Wake up, Harry!" A too-cheerful voice chirped by Harry's bedside. Voldemort got control of his arm first and grabbed for the wand before Harry woke up enough to abort the movement.

"Wha..?"

"It's time for lunch." Jeff said, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Harry completed the movement Voldemort had started, grabbed his wand and cast a quick  _Tempus_. "Is it the weekend or something?" He asked muzzily.

"No, we just don't have History of Magic this week."

"Why… oh." Because he had exorcised the teacher, of course. Why didn't this sort of thing ever happen to anyone else? Fate obviously enjoyed making Harry's life miserable.

"We have to eat quickly so we can go look after our Horklumps." Jeff continued. "I've been looking after yours this week, but now I can show you how to do it yourself. They only need food at lunch, so we're pretty lucky. I do miss the Puffskeins, though. Do you think Tom will let us take them home for the summer?"

"Er…"

"You're probably right. He's sort of a push-over when I come ask for something with you with me. We'll go together." Jeff continued to rattle on as Harry went through the motions of getting dressed. Harry contemplated actually conversing with the other boy, but it seemed that Jeff was well used to making a conversation with a non-responsive person, so all Harry had to do was look in the boy's general direction every so often and grunt and Jeff was happy.

Harry noted while brushing his teeth that he looked like he'd had a stroke as his left eye was bright red and scowling and his right was bright green and looking tired. Harry closed his eyes, spit out the toothpaste and looked again at his unremarkable hazel eyes. He sighed.

Severus followed the two of them as they left he common room. Harry normally wouldn't have thought anything of the older boy skulking behind them, as his older version did it habitually, but Voldemort kept trying to pull Harry's head around to look back at him. /Stop that!/ Harry demanded, shoving at the basilisk to get him deeper in his subconscious and out of partial control. It was beginning to worry him. At first the partial take-overs could have been ascribed to the other soul's time in the body alone. But now? The effects were lasting a disturbing amount of time.

: He's up to something. I've never seen Severus so disturbed./

/He's just cranky like he always is./ Harry huffed, though he got curious enough to cast a look back at the slinking form. Severus stiffened when he saw Harry looking at him and got even more pale than he usually was. Harry narrowed his eyes and Snape seemed to almost falter in his walking.

"Jeff."

"Harry!" Jeff stopped his train of one-sided conversation and smiled down at Harry.

"Can you grab me something? I'll meet you at Hagrid's hut. But I need to ask Snape something."

"Snape? Oh, you mean Severus? Sure." Jeff said, looking like a puppy that had just been given a big shiny ball. "I'll get you a nice big turkey sandwich with extra chips and relish!" Jeff called over his shoulder as he raced off.

Harry stopped in the corridor, waiting for Snape to catch up. He was momentarily confused both as to why Jeff was going to get him such a peculiar sandwich and why it sounded so delicious.

Severus stopped behind Harry, who ignored him for a while contemplating the sandwich until the taller boy cleared his throat.

Harry turned around, blinking. Severus twitched a few times when he saw the red swirl lazily around in the green before they settled back to hazel. "Snape." Harry greeted. "Something is bothering you." He pinned the much taller wizard with his gaze.

"Are you going to make me tell you what it is?" Snape said warily, having to work hard not to back up a step.

"No." Harry said, looking confused and lost. "At least, I hope not." He looked up into the hooded black eyes of the young man in front of him and felt terribly sad that the warmth he had seen there before was now shuttered off from him. "Will you curse me if I do?" Harry asked wistfully. Severus looked panicked at the mention, though, so Harry continued. "I'd want you to. Maybe even a good solid punch to the face? I don't realize I'm doing it, sometimes. I've had enough of people messing with my mind, I never thought I would be doing it to others." Harry scowled, looking off down the corridor.

"If that is your wish, I shall endeavor to fulfill it." Severus said finally.

Harry turned back to look at the taller wizard and was, to Severus at least, disproportionately happy at the statement. "Thanks! It's really great to know I can count on you."

And with that, Harry took off at a walk that was probably a bit too fast to be free of magical enhancement, leaving behind a thoroughly puzzled Professor's assistant.

OOoOOoOOOooooO

:Do you even  _know_  how to fly under your own power?/ Voldemort panted (if a voice in your head, which by definition could not have lungs, could be said to pant) when Harry finally stopped his series of half-Wronski feints interspersed with barrel rolls.

/Sure. Get broom. Get on broom. Fly./

: No! Brooms are entirely too unreliable. How they let children get on these wretched pieces of driftwood without knowing basic self-levitation…/

/Is that concern for others I hear?/ Harry asked, half teasing and hald incredulous.

:No./ Voldemort said, the basilisk looking very much like it was pouting. :If we fall off you need to give me control. I can fly without these foolish props./

/We're not going to fall off. And I most certainly won't be giving you control./ Although Harry was almost intrigued enough at the prospect of learning how to do the creepy bat-impression he'd seen both Voldemort and Snape do in his timeline to consider it. /Besides, you can't go nearly as fast./ Harry concluded, whipping down to the ground at ridiculous speeds before pulling up at the last second and ditching his broom to head off to Healing and Blood Magic. Voldemort twitched and coiled around his chest but Harry ignored him and the twinge of sympathetic pain. It wasn't as though the snake actually had a body and could have a real heart attack, even as much as the other soul was practically gibbering in fear of just such a thing.

Harry sat in the back of the classroom, trying to look small and inconspicuous (which was depressingly easy considering the fact that he really was small and inconspicuous) but despite his best efforts of leaving the rest of the students staring at the twigs of his broom and hiding in dark corners Marfic Black still thought it would be a good idea to harass him. And due to Harry's partially successful efforts, Jeff wasn't around to pitch a fit for him.

"Hey, retard. Finally back in classes are you. Done with those stupid hissing seizures and getting hugged by mummy?"

Harry ignored him but the boy was persistent. Apparently Sirius' tendencies towards picking on others was inherited. Harry was just glad that the other boy had left the dorm room before he had woken up that morning.

"Probably don't even have to make up any work, do you? Riddle's favorite. What do you have to do to get him to like you so much?" Harry glared at the Slytherin, but if anything that made the boy bolder. "You sit in his lap? Wriggle for him? He like his bed warmers to be stupid as well as ugly?" A spike of anger shot though Harry, coming from Voldemort. Probably. But the red haze was dissipated somewhat when he tried to picture both Tom Riddles doing various dirty things to each other. Harry's lip quirked upwards as his mental images got more and more intense. Not because he was particularly enjoying them, but because of the extreme reactions he was getting from Voldemort. Too bad Harry had heard most of the death threats before. However, some of the curses were quite ingenious and Harry was fairly certain at least some of them were actual spells. "Are you even listening to me you thick pervert?"

Marfic was yelling practically nose to nose in Harry's face. Harry pushed him back and then flipped the other boy the bird, using his hand to indicate what he should do about the gesture.

"Why you little!" Marfic growled, leaning forward gain from where he had been pushed back, looking like he was going to try to strangle the smaller Harry.

Harry drew his wand lazily, smiling as the young Black backed away, then firmed and held his ground.

"What are you going to do,  _Harry_?" Marfic drew out the name and twisted it into an insult. "Can't exorcise me!"

Harry waved his wand in the motion for the Killing Curse, careful to put absolutely no magic or intent into it. "Abra Kedabra!"

Marfic squeaked and tumbled over the desk behind him landing in a heap on the floor on step down. Several Muggle- and half-bloods laughed at the disgruntled Pureblood. Most of them both did not know the Killing Curse and caught the Muggle reference.

"That's quite enough, then!" Comes the sudden voice of Professor Hengle. "Order, order. Yes… there must be order." She trailed off, but the students got into their seats regardless. Marfic sent a nasty look over his shoulder before settling in the row in front of Harry, while Jeff scooted into the seat next to Harry. "Well. Yes. Today we are going to enact some basic runes for your field trip tomorrow. Who remembers which ones?"

"Ones for locating us, and ones for making sure we return to the school at the right time."

"Excellent. Five points to Slytherin. Did everyone bring their rats?" Harry was startled by the seeming change in topic, but the rest of the class proudly held up their spy-rats and Harry's poked her brindle head out from his sleeve, startling him. He had completely missed her presence. He looked at her with a suspicious frown, but the rat merely twitched her whiskers at him innocently.

Harry looked up but everyone seemed to be busy getting supplies and poking their rats. He had obviously missed the explanation. Jeff plopped down next to Harry, his arms full of various implements. "Hey, Harry! I know you weren't in class yesterday, but I can tell you how to do everything." A shadow of doubt flickered over his face. "Probably, anyway…"

Fortunately it seemed that the class was only to strengthen the runes already on place on the spying baby-sitter rats. Something which both Harry and Voldemort had been studying at least somewhat. They were able to stumble through the various steps without too much relying on Jeff, and managed to alter the instructions slightly as they went. The goal had been to link an Emergency Portkey function in the rats to a specific time the next day, as well as to the mental state of the students, in case they got lost or afraid. Harry, with a bit of help from the basilisk peanut gallery, managed to link it to mental commands instead.

/Thanks./ Harry waved at his co-inhabitor, letting his gratitude slide along the basilisk's sleek form. Harry was too excited looking down at the nondescript rat to notice Voldemort's discomfort.

:You're welcome./ The other soul muttered.

OOoooOOOOoo

The next morning was crisp and cool. Excited students piled into the thestral-drawn carriages, chattering at each other happily. Though some of the older students were grumpy at having to wake up so early on a Saturday, the general feeling was one of a holiday.

Harry patted the thestrals of his carriages on the head fondly, rubbing them under the chin. He got strange looks from those who couldn't see the beasts, as it appeared that he was scratching empty air, but even stranger looks from those who  _could_  see them.

Harry settled onto the bench beside Jeff. He was mildly surprised when Snape sat at his other side. Both because the benches had never sat three before, and because the other Slytherin had been avoiding him since the previous morning. Harry contemplated if they had made the carriages bigger or if he and Jeff were small enough that Snape's bony butt fit without needing to expand anything. A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his reverie.

"On good terms with the thestrals?" Snape asked, the emotions flitting over his face so fast and so subtly Harry doubted Snape could even catalogue them all.

"Your mom?" Harry replied. When Severus stiffened and pulled back his hand as if it burned instead of looking confused Harry had his answer. "They like the attention." Harry shrugged. Snape was looking at Harry like he wished he had kept avoiding the small boy/28-year old man. "It's not their fault, the reason we can see them." Harry finished quietly, staring ahead. "Change what you associate them with and they aren't nearly as creepy."

The rest of the ride was filled up with Jeff's chatter as he and the three students from their Care of Magical Creatures class talked about various things and speculated on what the chances were for their various Quidditch teams. Harry wanted to look out the window, but he was stuck between the two others. He was already leaning away from Jeff, who was gesturing broadly to emphasize his points, so he tried to peer out of the window by Snape, who was practically quivering with the tension. Harry looked up at him questioningly, but kept craning to see out the window. The landscape was rushing by in a suspiciously familiar way. Harry was half in Snape's lap before he could see the awesome view and appreciate just how high up they were.

"Won't the Muggles see us?" Harry asked Snape in a low voice so as to not interrupt the other kids.

"These carriages are protected from Muggles with an extension both of the Hogwarts' Muggle repelling wards and the thestral's natural invisibility." Snape replied.

"Oh." Harry looked out the window, at once entranced and wishing they could have all flown on broom instead.

"If you are going to sit in my lap the whole time you should have taken the window seat." Snape drawled.

Harry looked down and realized to his chagrin that he was no longer merely leaning over Snape, but completely on top of him and kneeling on his lap. He quirked a half grin at Snape and shrugged somewhat apologetically. "It's a cool view."

"Indeed." Snape said, sighing. But instead of dumping Harry on the seat and moving over like he was expecting Snape sat forward, shifting Harry so that they could look out the window together. "Do you recognize the landscape?"

Harry nodded, wondering why this didn't feel more awkward. He mused that while semi-unconscious all those years he seemed to have had a penchant for people's laps and being carried places. It almost disturbed him as to how not disturbed he was at the thought of being treated like a lapdog. "What's at the Ministry?" Harry asked, turning to Snape.

"I suppose you ignored the announcement." He sighed. "We are going to the Department of Education, looking at their displays on recent history." Harry was quiet then, watching the world pass by underneath of them, looking at the tiny houses and the light glinting off of the rivers.

"Do you know of a way of flying without a broom?" Harry asked suddenly, wondering if this Snape had learned it yet, or if he ever would.

"Not unless you mean by carriage or other magical creature. Which is if anything more dangerous than those flimsy sticks." Snape's face was sour. Apparently his opinion of brooms was no better in this world than in the other.

"Can Tom fly without a broom?"

"No one can fly without a broom, you foolish brat. No human can." Snape was clearly getting irritated by the questions and forgetting to be petrified of Harry, which suited the young dimension hopper perfectly. Well, at least the non-Dark Lord half of the occupants, anyway.

For the rest of the ride Harry allowed himself to basically cuddle with the gaunt professor's assistant, despite the looks he was getting from the other students. It was somewhat marvelous that they didn't look too put out about the situation. Harry was tempted to milk his seemingly eight year old body for all the cuddles he could get, but probably he wouldn't be able to get Snape to carry him around the ministry. And in all likelihood it wouldn't be too terribly comfortable anyway, considering the fact that Harry's legs were starting to go numb from sitting on Snape's bony lap.

:Did you catch these ridiculous  _warm_  and  _fuzzy_  impulses from your visit with your family in the afterlife?/ Voldemort's question caught Harry by surprise. He was a bit confused at the suddenness and the anger coming off the other soul.

/Not at all. If anything they pissed me off./ Harry replied, puzzled and unable to probe out the reasons behind Voldemort's anger.

:Good./ Voldemort replied maliciously, using his one word response like a mental dagger.

Harry was surprised at how shocked he was at Voldemort's reaction. Apparently at some point he had started to need a reason for the Dark Lord being pissy. /Does somebody want a hug?/ Harry teased, leaning back against Severus and basking in the other's warmth.

/No./ The reply was almost… petulant. Harry sent a wave of warmth at Voldemort anyway, something he had known how to do since third year as a defense against the mental intrusions, although he hadn't weaponized it until later. This time, though, being so intimately linked, Harry got a bit of the backlash. The sensation was absolutely bizarre, though given the thrashing the basilisk was doing Harry would have thought he had cast the cruciatus instead of sending a mental hug.

/What happened to that cheerful Dark Lord I was greeted with upon my return? And here I thought you were happy to see me./ Harry didn't get a verbal response to his taunt, although he did learn that basilisks were pretty good at growling.

The carriage set down with a small bump and Harry shrugged, hopping off of his living chair and out the door, almost falling when the pins and needles hit.

"Harry, you should know better by now than to sit on Sev that long. His legs are like a primitive torture device unless you pad his lap with something." Jeff laughed as he passed the Harry standing gingerly on the ground with a pained expression on his face.

Snape breezed by the two of them in a glide almost as elegant as Harry's original universe's had perfected, ignoring both Harry and the sniggers from the three other students who were sitting with them. Harry wished he could be so stoic, but there was something devious about pins-and-needles that turned him into a complete wimp, even more so than torture curses.

: You deserve it./

/Oh shut up./

The group entered the Ministry through a much larger and prominent entrance than the phone booth- a good thing seeing as how the entire population of Hogwarts had come. The fifth through seventh years were taken to go on tours and shadow particular departments, while the younger years were herded into a large group around the fountain. Harry noted with disgust that it was the same one featuring the vacant and adoring non-humans and the wizard it had in his time. If anything it was more offensive now, seeing it after Harry himself had blown it up in a fight with Voldemort. He had said afterwards he was aiming for some highly placed Death Eaters, but really he had just really wanted to see it explode. He had already put up with ten minutes of monologuing from Voldemort and that was enough to turn any reasonable being violent.

:I do not 'monologue.'/ Voldemort huffed indignantly. Harry ignored him. Partly because that sort of blind denial warranted no response and partly because at that moment a large section of the wall exploded.

A large group of scruffy looking wizards leapt through the rubble, quickly stunning most of the shocked Hogwarts staff and Ministry officials. Students started to disappear as their Emergency Portkeys activated before one of the raiders made an expansive gesture that Harry recognized as a crude magical transport blocking charm. Anyone with enough power could blaze through the holes it left in coverage, but the rats did not qualify as nearly enough.

Harry narrowed his eyes and surveyed the men as they shouted and bullied the terrified children into a tight clump next to the desks on the side of the room. For now he went along with their instructions. This situation was very odd. Wasn't there no Voldemort in this world? And something was off about the wizards.

:Werewolves./ Voldemort corrected, somewhat petulantly.

/How can you tell that?/ Harry asked, trying to see if the men were giving off some sort of aura or vibe or something.

:Through my highly trained sense of smell./

Harry bought it for a second. /Wait a minute…/

: They were in my army you fool. Don't you recognize Fenrir?/ Once Voldemort pointed it out Harry realized he did recognize the werewolf that infected Remus and mauled Bill Weasley. He didn't look better, per se, but more younger. He was still filthy and wolf-like.

/What in the world are they doing blowing up the Ministry?/ Harry wondered. A teeny tiny part of him almost wanted to ask if he could join them. Light side or not, blowing up the Ministry was a satisfying and soul-soothing experience, for both Harry and Voldemort.

:We could help them destroy it just shy of total ruin, so that they would rebuild and we could come back and blow it up again./ Voldemort offered hopefully, sensing that deep longing.

/Did you never totally destroy the place on purpose?/ Harry asked, suspicious but amused.

:Did you ever blow it up on purpose when 'aiming' at my followers?/ Voldemort retorted.

/Touche./ Harry smirked.

A resounding crack! noise brought Harry's attention back to the center of the room. Several house elves and a small herd of centaur were now by the fountain. The house elves disappeared, only to return again with a dragon and a small horde of goblins. Harry's eyes widened.

One of the centaurs, an impressively large male of gleaming black, reared up on his hind legs, kicking his front hooves in a way that made the feathering on his legs stream in a way that would have been pretty on any other being, but he made look like the snap of a battle standard. "Get this wretched thing from my sight!" He roared in a cross between a man's shout and a stallion's scream. The dragon opened it's large mouth, the air in front of its teeth shimmering in heat haze as it gathered fire and spit it in a large ball dripping red hot lava at the offending statue. The fountain exploded in a shower of molten stone and metal and there was a gush of hissing steam that raced out from the conflagration. There were high-pitched screams of terror from the children.

Harry couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing.

"Something funny, boy?" Fenrir said, suddenly right in front of him. Harry snorted a couple times trying to settle his chuckles but couldn't manage. Fenrir grabbed him by the neck and brought Harry's face up close to his own. The stench rolling off of the werewolf made Harry gag and finally stop laughing. "I think I've found my next meal." The grin revealed pointed teeth and even worse breath.

"Ah…" Harry said out loud. Inside… /Crap!/


	12. NonHuman Anatomy

Fenrir was not stupid. A foul-smelling sadist who ate human (and occasionally merfolk) babies for breakfast, yes. But he had not become the alpha of the most influential werewolf clan on his brawn alone. Or rather, he had not  _ remained _  the leader for so many years without also having a strong sense of strategy and politics. In another world, his skills had allowed him to remain the leader for several more decades.

That world, however, was quite a bit different than this one.

As Fenrir tried to decide whether to look into the red or green eye of the small boy he had by the throat, his innate tactical sense rolled over and whined. It was a little talked about but well-known magical fact that since eyes were windows into the soul, any magical creature that could change them was either powerful beyond imagining or out of its bleeding mind. Or, as the few people who had met such beings and lived to ponder had said- most likely both.

Fenrir was too busy trying to clamp down on his bladder to prevent himself from instinctively pissing himself submissively to really notice when his second grabbed another human, but he certainly noticed when the eyes hardened from a previously innocuous seeming emerald green and cherry red to killing curse green and arterial blood red.

After that things happened rather fast.

When the second werewolf grabbed Jeff by the arm and hauled him forward with a smirk, Harry's vision ran red. Voldemort soothed the rage into a productive bolus with the ease of much practice while Harry crushed Fenrir's wrist to free himself and launched his head into the second werewolf's gut. Though three people were on the floor, Harry completely ignored all but the smallest. He rushed to Jeff's side, patting him and running a quick wandless check to make sure the boy was alright. It was a bit disorienting looking for an absence of injuries, rather than trying to see how many more he could cause before his victim died, but Harry was much too busy panicking and Voldemort was much too involved in shoring up their rage to comment on it.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked the other boy.

"Bloody hell!" Burst out one of the other students, though what exactly he was referring to would be debatable.

"I'm fine, Harry." Jeff replied shakily. He looked up into the other's hazel eyes and smiled shakily.

Harry turned back around as he felt the air pressing against him, signaling that someone was trying to rush him. He grabbed the head of the second werewolf with one tiny hand and stopped the rush of the powerful man with little effort. The werewolf snarled and tried to bite at Harry, but Harry merely pushed the wolf backward away from the children.

"While I approve of your artistic sensibilities, I cannot espouse your penchant for terrorizing children." Harry said coolly, though even as the words left his mouth he wondered what 'penchant' meant.

"What?" Fenrir growled, nursing his healing wrist.

Harry took control back before Voldemort could start monologuing. :I don't…!/ "I said, I'm glad you blew up that hideous statue, but bugger off. You're scaring the sprogs."

"You think we are too stupid for your fancy words, wizard?" Fenrir snarled, while his inner tactician whimpered and tried to run away.

"No." Harry said, "I'm sure the people of the stars understand," he nodded his head toward the somewhat dumbfounded looking centaur, "as well as the keepers of gold," he nodded toward the vicious goblins and the dragon. "But I'm pretty sure you needed the translation." He finished, with a feral smile aimed at the werewolf leader.

Fenrir wisely said nothing.

"You know what I've heard, though? That if you kill a werewolf, you can break the curse on everyone they've infected." Harry continued conversationally, though both he and Voldemort knew it was not exactly true.

Fenrir regarded the two eyes sparkling with malevolence: acid green and ember red. "That won't help you, wizard. Only those who don't want the gift will become mortals again." He smirked, thinking he had the boy figured, as much as one could. He straightened a bit, thinking that if the boy was afraid of their numbers, then they had a chance to kill him.

"Is that so?" Harry purred. Fenrir's eyes widened as blood started to leak from the bottom of the darkening scar on the boy's forehead. He didn't get a chance to contemplate what that meant, however, because Harry rushed forward and shoved his hand up through the disgusting rags covering the werewolf's hairy belly and up underneath the ribs to grab the heart. "Muggles can be such wonderful teachers, don't you think?" Harry cooed, feeling the werewolf's heart beating between his fingers and the suction of lungs massaging his arm. "So many delightful lessons on  _ anatomy _ ." And with that he ripped the beating muscle from the man's chest, holding it in his hands and contemplating its rhythm getting slower and more erratic as blood gushed from the body in front of him and the most feared werewolf in Britain toppled to the ground. Harry repressed the sudden and intense urge to cackle maniacally, though he was a bit disappointed when he succeeded in doing so.

"You!" the second werewolf snarled, leaping towards Harry, who caught him again with a small put-upon sigh. He contemplated the heart in his other hand before dropping the feebly twitching collapsed thing on top of the body it used to reside in before bringing both his hands up to hold the werewolf's head. Harry twisted the snarling man's neck until it gave with a satisfyingly wet crackling thunk, then dropped the second werewolf on top of Fenrir.

"My, my. Those two were not well socialized." Harry commented. He looked back up at the group in front if him, blood leaking around a brilliant emerald eye and complementing the red one.

"We know your kind, wizard. We will not be kept down any longer with your derision." The male centaur said, prancing menacingly forward, his dinner plate sized hooves hitting the marble floor with resounding clacks with each dancing step.

"You keep yourselves down, associating with filth like that." Harry retorted, not terribly intimidated as the centaur was keeping well back from Harry and the twitching bodies at his feet.

"We are not filth!" Snarled another werewolf, from the look of him, perhaps the omega of the group. "We are just as human as you are, and just as much thinking beings deserving respect as anyone else in this room."

Harry smirked. "Oh, I agree with you." The werewolf looked at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Now that Fenrir is dead, I see no one in this room I consider a lesser being. But anyone who tortures and kills children is much, much less than an animal." His eyes narrowed. "They are walking corpses I simply haven't gotten around to, yet."

Further conversation was cut off as aurors burst into the atrium. The various non-humans fought the wizards viciously; spells, hooves, arrows and bursts of fire crisscrossed the space in front of the huddled first and second years.

Harry shrugged. He had no stake in this conflict. Now that he and Jeff were no longer being specifically targeted Harry simply stepped back and set up a shield to cover the non-combatants. He sank to the ground, crossing arms and legs and closing his eyes, waiting for the fighting to end or someone to focus on him as a target.

"Harry?" Jeff's voice was shaken and quiet.

Harry turned to him and opened his hazel eyes and smiled slightly. "Yes, Jeff?" But the other boy had nothing further to say. They sat there for a moment, lights from various spells impacting the shield dancing in colored patterns across both their faces. Harry frowned when Jeff's face started to scrunch up. "What's wrong, Jeff?" Harry asked gently, letting his arms fall from across his chest and land in his lap, tilting his head to the side.

"Th… they're dead." Jeff said, starting to shake in earnest. His gaze was very carefully not landing on the pair of bodies not five feet from where Harry was sitting. Harry blinked in surprise. In truth, he had completely forgotten about the bodies.

Harry stood up and hugged the larger boy. "I know, Jeff." Jeff started bawling on Harry's shoulder, his sobs making his whole body convulse. Harry rubbed circles on his friend's back, both he and Voldemort feeling completely out of their depth. They were used to war and torture- everyone had known the stakes. Harry had been just as devastated as anyone else seeking comfort and Voldemort had been causing the pain.

"Why are they dead?" Jeff asked, and Harry knew that the boy wasn't asking why Harry had killed them.

"Do you know Remus Lupin?" Harry asked, not sure if the other boy would.

Jeff looked down at Harry, confused at the seemingly random question. "Yes. He's not here, though." Jeff frowned, momentarily losing his hysteria while he tried to figure out what Harry was getting at.

"That werewolf infected Remus. When he was a boy younger than you are- attacked and savaged him so badly he barely survived. That monster didn't have to act like that, werewolves are just normal people with a somewhat hairy problem. But he enjoyed it. You heard him- he wanted to eat me. And then eat you, too." Harry looked down at the dawning horror on Jeff's face, not sure if this was helping or not, seeing as the initial problem was a shattering of his innocence. "Life can be cruel sometimes, Jeff. I took the opportunity to make it a little better."

Jeff let his head fall back onto Harry's shoulder, bending a little bit to do so. Harry sighed and patted his friend on the back. He looked around idly, but his attention was brought back rather quickly when he noticed all the other first and second years huddling against the wall, a few clinging to it as though they wanted to get as far away as possible. Harry wasn't sure if they were afraid of the bodies, or of him, or the fighting, or something else entirely. He sighed.

"Hey." Harry called to the assembled students, most of whom jumped at his voice. "Where are all of the professors, anyway?"

"Stunned." Marfic said sullenly. "Freak." He muttered under his breath. Harry heard him and couldn't help a twinge of anger from shooting through him. It quickly died when he saw the other boy's eyes widen and his face pale.

Harry took a deep breath and let it go. There was no place for that now, these children were not enemies. "Where?" He asked, striving for calm. A group of children huddled together even more tightly, shooting Harry panicked and somewhat hostile glances. Harry turned back to Jeff and slowly disentangled them. "Ok, there, Jeff? I'm going to wake up our professors."

"Ok." Jeff said, standing back from Harry, but hunching over his chest a bit as though he was in pain.

"Do you want to help?" Harry asked. Jeff brightened considerably. Together the two of them moved over to where the students were closing ranks. "I can revive them. I swear upon my magic that I do not intend any harm." Harry said solemnly, recognizing their bravery.

The muggle-borns still glared at him stubbornly, but the pure and half-bloods convinced them to back off. A pile of bodies was revealed as they moved. Harry heard Jeff gulp beside him before the other boy realized that they were all still breathing.

Harry went to the first one and ran a quick scan over the still form. Nothing but a simple stun spell. Harry enervated the long form and moved among the rest, checking and reversing the stuns on them all. The professors immediately started to shout and ask questions. Harry ignored them, working through the rest of the casualties as none of the adult wizards seemed cogent enough to take up the task. At the last form Harry paused, staring down, frozen. Below him was… himself. An adult form, messy black hair, round glasses and a familiar face. A face that no longer looked back at him when we stared into the mirror. He snapped out of the reverie and enervated James Potter.

"Harry?" James asked, looking completely lost. Harry choked on a cry and fell into the man's arms. "Whoah! Easy, there."

"Step away." A voice came from above. Both Harry and James looked up, not sure to whom the voice was referring. "That 'boy' is under custody of the ministry on suspicion of not being human." The voice was that of a woman in Ministry robes and she was pointing angrily at Harry.

"Hey, Harry may be an annoying little psycho, but he's fully human." James retorted hotly. Harry couldn't help the wry grin that slipped onto his face. Trust his father to be so insulting when defending someone.

"Release him, Mr. Potter." The woman's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Really?" Harry asked, feeling James jump underneath of him. "You're arresting me in the middle of an attack on the Ministry of Magic while I'm holding up a barrier protecting you and all these children?" He shook his head. Maybe he should just blow up the damn place and take over. :Yes!/ Harry just snorted. At both of them.

"You can talk?" James asked as Harry and the ministry official glared at each other. "In real words, I mean?"

"Um." Harry was at a loss of words for a second. He hadn't really made a conscious decision to start, just spoken as it had been necessary to do so. "Yes?"

"Great! Any horrible secrets of Severus' you want to tell me? I need some leverage to pry him off of dear, sweet Lily."

"Mr. Potter!" The official seemed scandalized, though because she was being ignored or because James was talking to the 'criminal' Harry wasn't sure.

"As much as this pains me to say… I think you may have lost that battle." Harry winced as Voldemort happily supplied the images of his mother and the greasy Defense assistant rolling about on the floor half naked. He felt himself turning a bit green.

"Those wankers! Can't they have a bit of decency? In front of a child, no less." James' face transformed from disgust to devious. "Ooh. That will definitely work as blackmail."

Tired of being ignored the ministry official yanked Harry from his father's grip. Harry was surprised that he almost started crying at the loss. James Potter was an absolute ass, but Harry just really wanted someone to hug him. :It's becoming a disgusting necessity./ Voldemort commented. Harry was gracious enough not to point out that the ex-Dark Lord had been having just as warm and fuzzy thoughts as Harry himself had been.

"Oi! Are you hurt, Harry?" James asked, jumping to his feet as he saw the congealing blood clumped on Harry's forearm.

Harry looked down and winced. He should have done a quick Scourgify before he had woken any of the adults up.

"No!" A Ravenclaw from the side squeaked. "He shoved his hand through the man's stomach and pulled out his heart!"

"Nonsense." The official scoffed. Harry eyed her with surprise. If she wasn't arresting him for that, what was she arresting him for?

"No, I did." Harry affirmed, seeing no point in denying it with so many eye witnesses.

The woman dropped his arm like Harry had told her he had highly contagious Bubutuber Plague. "What?" She squeaked, backing up.

"He was going to eat us." Jeff added, scowling at the Ravenclaw. "It was self-defense."

"Eat you?" The woman looked about ready to faint.

"Ugh. Who the hell would want to eat you two scrawny runts?" James asked, looking not quite sure if he believed Harry or not.

"Fenrir Greyback." Harry answered, pointing at the body.

The woman glanced at the body and went over to it, rolling it over with one high-heal clad foot. She apparently recognized him because she stepped back with a start and then poked him again with her foot. "Well, that's no matter. I thought you said he killed a man. That's just a werewolf."

Harry frowned at her attitude and casual dismissal. "So if I used his blood to infect you and then ripped out your heart, that wouldn't be murder, either?" Voldemort asked sweetly from Harry's mouth, eyes flashing briefly before Harry slammed back into control and shoved the protesting basilisk deep down into his subconscious.

The woman in front of him was now so pale it was a wonder she was so conscious, and sweat had broken out on her brow. "Of… of course not!" She stuttered. "I'm a witch, not an animal."

Harry was angry, now. "Oh." He answered, his tone quite close to Voldemort's. "When, pray tell, would it stop being so? Is there a time element built in? Would you need to go through your first moon? Kill your first human? Or maybe Muggles don't count, and you would need to attack a wizard?"

Harry ignored her spluttering response and instead focused on the battle. Both his souls had noted a change in the pitch of the battle. It seemed that the House Elves had returned to the group and were popping in and out, taking the various living, injured and dead non-humans with them. Harry wondered why they had waited so long until he heard the dragon hissing about 'files.' First Harry was surprised to hear the dragon and could feel Voldemort was mildly surprised as well, but putting that aside he became quite curious what files the dragon was talking about. After the last spells cast at the disappearing (chuckling at the folly of humans) dragon and the many vicious goblins silence fell, heavy and thick and making Harry's ears ring at the suddenness of it.

"Damn." One of the aurors said, kicking the statue wizard's head viciously and sending it skidding into the ruins of the fountain.

Harry let his barrier fall, startling the twitchy Aurors so much he almost had to raise it again.

"What the hell?"

Harry sighed gustily and rolled his neck. His muscles were starting to twitch and feel weak from the rush of adrenalin, and what he supposed was an intense influx of magic. He sat down on the ground, feeling even weaker, now, without the expenditure of energy on the shield acting as an odd sort of crutch.

"Harry!" Jeff cried, grabbing the small body as Harry slumped all the way to the ground, preventing him from hitting his head.

Harry's arms flung out as he tried to fix himself in space. /What the hell?/

:We overdid it a bit./ Voldemort said wryly, wrapping his long body along Harry's nerves and settling the other enough that he didn't feel like he was going to vomit anymore.

/Overdid what?/

:Didn't you notice? We were working together, in concert. The glorious rush of power and strength should have tipped you off. And I rather thought your sudden fascination in the last beats of a disembodied heart might have awoken your Gryffindor sensibilities./ Voldemort hissed wryly.

Suddenly Harry felt queasy again. He hadn't even noticed or thought about it. Even while comforting Jeff it had seemed perfectly natural to have _ ripped the living heart _  from a man. And it was- for Voldemort.

:Now, Harry. I've never done something so boorishly Muggle. That was your own improvisational technique./

At this Harry scrambled up and darted behind one of the desks at the edge of the room and threw up into the trashcan he found there.

"Harry!" Several voices called out to him, all with different emotions fueling the cry. Harry could hear none of them, absorbed in his black despair and the gloating satisfaction pooling from the basilisk in his head. Harry shoved Voldemort down into the recesses of his mind and immediately threw up again as the backlash from his magic hit him again.

"Harry!" The voice was closer this time and Harry looked up blearily into to concerned face of Severus Snape. In any other circumstance, Harry might have felt an almost instinctive surprise at seeing that expression directed at him from that face, but now all he felt was tired, sore and dirty inside his own mind. Snape attempted to gather him up, but Harry pushed him away. He didn't deserve any compassion. He had let a megalomaniac loose inside his mind and onto the world. /Even if Fenrir had deserved it/ a tiny part of his mind whispered, so softly that Harry himself didn't hear it, though Voldemort, pushed into a similar corner, could.

"All of you, step away from that… thing." The ministry official was back, and this time she had reinforcements in the form of aurors. Some of them seemed to be a bit hesitant, while others were looking at Harry with hard eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Severus hissed, his voice almost as poisonous as his older self had been able to manage.

"We are placing him under arrest." Harry hiccupped an ironic cough. "Right now."

"What the bloody hell did he do?" Snape snapped.

"He was able to incapacitate two werewolves and revive twelve people. All while maintaining a shield across half this atrium for nearly fifteen minutes." The woman hissed.

"You're arresting him for doing your job?" Severus asked, his voice too shocked to remain poisonous. The hesitant aurors shifted in place, while the ones who were scowling now looked nearly murderous.

"We're arresting him for being suspected non-human." One of the angry aurors growled.

A flicker of worry flitted over Snape's face, not enough for any of the aurors to catch, but James, who was standing off to the side, looked at his classmate oddly. Severus drew himself up with as much dignity as he could manage sitting on the floor. "That is ludicrous." He stated empathically. "My father will not allow it." Harry felt the surprising urge to laugh. Just at that moment, Snape looked entirely too much like Malfoy.

"Your 'father' will have no say on the matter. You know the new laws as much as anyone." Another auror hissed. Harry got the impression that this particular one might know either Tom or Snape, based on the cold expression aimed directly at the lanky youth.

"That's right. I do know them. Apparently better than you do. Nothing this boy has done points to him being anything other than human." Snape sneers.

"Quite right, my dear boy." Snape turns to look behind him with a look of sickened horror on his suddenly pale face.

Harry turns to look as well, his face calm and his eyes hazel, as he surprised more that it had taken the old wizard this long, more than the fact he was about to do something 'for the Greater Good' as he saw fit.

Dumbledore continued, speaking calmly and in a somewhat archaic accent: "He is, in fact, a Dark Artefact most foul. That boy is a Horucrux."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for Evil!Schizoid!Possessed!Harry/Voldemort comes to you thanks to dellacouer's "It's All Relative on the Hellmouth".


	13. Trials

Harry wasn't surprised that the Ministry policy consisted of putting him into a cell pending the arrival of a registered interrogation supervisor, who would then set down his rights and those of his guardians before asking a series of questions in the presence of said guardians. He was surprised, however, that that was what actually happened.

Tom had arrived shortly after Dumbledore's pronouncement, but had left to fill out forms or argue with lawyers or whatever it was that he felt he needed to. Harry found that he didn't particularly care about all that, especially as he was curled up rather happily on Snape's lap- now padded with a conjured cushion. He was still slightly damp from the shower he had taken in the aurors' dressing room to wash off the blood that was splattered all over him. He was beginning to think that being turned into a child was the best thing that had ever happened to him, if he could keep cuddling with people like he was now. It was something he had been too proud to do as an adult, not to mention that no one would have likely cooperated with any attempt to do so. Harry had to suppress a burst of laughter at the thought of his world's Snape cuddling his adult self. Or even now.

He laid his head against Snape's chest and looked over at James Potter who, for some reason, was still staying with them. Harry wasn't complaining, though. His sort-of-father wasn't being an ass like the last time they ran across him, though he was looking at Harry with an odd expression on his face.

"What do you want, Potter?" Snape snapped after James had been staring at the two of them for nearly a minute without blinking.

"A hug." James said, sitting upright and looking at the two of them with a completely straight, possibly even a little melancholy look on his face. "I'm so jealous of the attention you are showering on Harry. It's so rare for you to display affection…" He shook his head and raised his arms helplessly. "I just thought that you would realize my feelings for you before turning into a pedophile."

Harry couldn't hold it in anymore, he cackled gleefully, causing James to look at him in surprise and then smirk and Severus's snarls to increase in intensity. Snape's hand was rubbing along his wand, but he couldn't seem to figure out who he wanted to curse first.

"Oh, Severus." James drew the other man's name out sultrily. "You don't have to use you imagination with that wand, I'm right here."

That seemed to decide Snape, who whipped out his wand and pointed it at James' face. Harry was snorting he was laughing so hard, so hard in fact, that he practically didn't notice when he got dumped onto the floor. Especially as the cushion came with him.

He did notice, however, when the door opened and hit him on the head. He looked up from the floor into confused brown eyes.

"Remus!" James gasped in between dodging a curse and a right hook. "What are you doing here?"

"I was getting my confirmatory test to revoke my werewolf status." Remus said, looking bemused as James skidded to a stop and Severus cast something on him that caused purple cauliflower-looking scissor-like growths to appear on his face. Harry paused in his laughter to try to figure out how that was physically, or even magically possible. He was both stumped and a bit miffed at his obviously lacking prank-hexing education.

"What?" James asked, his voice high and squeaky and his bright red forked tongue flicking out and making a tooting sound.

"You're a werewolf?" Snape asked, looking a bit put out, like he was trying to make a statement, but had ended up with a question. All three of them looked at him strangely, as only Harry was not completely certain that Snape knew that Remus was one in this reality, though he was pretty sure he did.

"I  _ was _ , yes." Remus said, beaming.

"You remember that, don't you Snivellus? You certainly whined about it enough, though I suppose the trauma might have been too much for your delicate sensibilities." James' taunts were about as potent as a goldfish's as the hex was still active. Which was probably fortunate, as otherwise he might have been hit with something worse.

Remus bent down and pulled Harry to his feet. With him kneeling, Remus's warm brown eyes were slightly below Harry's. Harry looked at him, confused and not sure if he liked being actually taller than someone or feeling like he was being condescended to.

"Thank you, Harry." Remus said simply. "You changed my life."

Harry looked down and sighed. He had known when he had ripped out Fenrir's heart that this would be the result, but seeing his friend, not only alive but free of the curse… it was much more emotional than he had thought it would be. "Well, he deserved it." Harry muttered finally.

At the silence Harry looked up, seeing the shocked expression on Remus' face. "You can talk?"

"Er…" Harry smiled bemusedly, wondering how many times he was going to have to go through this reaction.

"That's wonderful!" Remus said, beaming. Harry was enchanted looking into his eyes- his eyes that used to flash occasionally in a feral gold, but now were very normal, human brown.

"Sort of." Harry replied, thinking to all the questions he was likely going to have to answer soon.

"Harry." Tom's voice came from behind Remus. Harry looked up at the serious face of his adoptive father… which was an odd thought in and of itself, but the man's face was serious enough that he didn't dwell on it any longer. "Boys." He continued, looking at the three gathered with a raised eyebrow, waving his wand lazily to dispel the cauliflower scissors and the flicking donging tongue from James. "Come along, Harry." Harry left the room, with the three year mates following along behind. Tom gave the three another odd look before moving after the wizards and witches in auror and judicator robes.

They ended up in a room that was much closer than the stadium-style interrogation chamber that Harry had been questioned in before. He wondered if that was because he was technically a minor, or for security reasons, or for some completely unknown bureaucratic one. Tom waved Harry towards a chair that looked about as appealing as his original Snape's… no… Voldemort's lap. Harry felt a strange twinge at the thought, but couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Confused, he looked back at his Snape. All he got was a raised eyebrow and the cushion held out. With a bit of a pout, Harry watched Snape place it on the chair. He looked hopefully back at Remus and James and got a confused look and an amused denial, respectively. Harry sat down on the slightly more comfortable looking perch (that was still not nearly as appealing as a nice warm lap) and crossed his arms. This was becoming less fun.

"Mr. Riddle. You are here representing the interests of this minor child, one Harry O'Donnell?" The wizard on the left asked, looking up from his paper.

"That is correct."

Harry looked around, mildly curious about the proceedings. It seemed so formal compared to what he had been through in the past. Harry noted without much surprise that Dumbledore was sitting in the corner. His gaze was sharp and focused on Harry. Even through the seriousness of the situation, Harry couldn't help but be amused at the old wizard. He was always so intent on the 'greater good'- but this was the first time Harry had been on the other side of it. Well, there had been times when he hadn't really been trusted to stay Light (or rather, few times when he  _ had _ been trusted) but usually the Headmaster had been trying to do the best he could be him, even while trying to save the world.

/:He isn't the only one with a hero complex.:/ Voldemort noted, almost surprising Harry when he spoke.

/What?/ Harry asked. What Dumbledore did wasn't a hero complex, surely… more like the toil of someone who knew the depths humanity could sink and had dedicated his life to helping everything turn out as best as it could.

Voldemort heard Harry's reasoning and snorted. /:Of course you want to paint it romantically, you do the same thing. You two found a 'Dark Lord Vanquisher' club and discuss at your meetings various ways to manipulate people 'for their own good.':/

Harry was stunned by the bitterness. But he couldn't help but block out the thoughts that were swirling behind and supporting the comment. For a second he could see himself through Voldemort's perspective- how hypocritical he and Dumbledore were, using much the same tactics that the Dark Lords they fought had used, except without the power and conviction behind their actions to take the manipulation and sweeping decisions to their inevitable conclusion. So weak that they couldn't even see the truth even as they 'saved the world.'

Harry snapped out of it, disturbed both that he had been inside Voldmort's point of view at all, and that what he had seen had been… he would have to think about it. Was his need to save people the same thing as Voldemort's terrorizing of them? After all, both of them were taking away the free will of the people they were dealing with.

Harry shifted forward, causing Dumbledore to narrow his eyes and the wizards at the table to look at him and pause the official preliminary questions.

"Albus- do you think there is a difference between forcing people to accept you saving them and forcing them to do anything else?" Harry didn't care that everyone was staring at him, didn't care if he was breaking protocol, or even if what he said ended up proving him guilty. He felt he needed some sort of outside opinion, as the only person he could ask without speaking was not someone who was going to make him feel like he was coming to solid moral ground.

"Of course it is different." Harry noted that the older wizard's voice was frosty and that he hadn't said his name. "Sacrificing yourself for their well being is the complete opposite of using them for your own selfish desires."

"Either way, aren't you taking away their free will?" Harry asked, his voice almost breaking at the last word.

"Would it be better to do nothing? To allow horrible things to happen to people who do not have the power to save themselves, when you have that power?"

Harry frowned uncertainly, moving to sit forward, staring at the table and at the quill that had paused after copying Dumbledore's last statement.

"Harry?" Tom asked, his face soft with concern.

"Are you ready to proceed with the questions?" The Ministry questioner asked. Harry looked at him and really saw him for the first time. The wizard looked a lot like a teacher that Harry had had at his Muggle school. The man had been sort of out of it, not really noticing when the students acted up or beat up Harry. But he couldn't blame the man- he, and this questioner, had exuded such helpless benevolence that Harry couldn't attribute a mean thought to him. He sort of looked like Dumbledore did, if Dumbledore really was the person he tried to project, and not a supremely powerful and manipulative wizard.

"Yes." Harry sighed.

"Your name is Harry O'Donnell?"

Well, if he was technically adopted, then he supposed it was. "Yes." Harry said, noting that the color of the quill was getting a bit greyer from the pristine white it had been.

"Is that the full truth, Harry?" the man asked gently.

"No?" Harry asked, watching the feather turn back pure white. "I'm adopted? So it's my name now."

"What was your name before?" the man asked, Tom made a coughing noise in his throat but didn't make any comments.

"I don't remember." The pen turned pitch black, confirming that it was reading if Harry was telling the truth or not. Harry was curious how it worked, though he probably wouldn't understand the magical theory behind it anyway. "I don't want to say." He said instead, and the feather turned back white.

The examiner looked at Harry curiously but was about to go on when Dumbledore cut him off. "Do you know what that quill does?"

Harry saw no reason to not answer. "It turns black if I'm lying."

The examiner smiled at him. "That's very impressive for you to have figured out, Harry."

"Harry figured out the intention gnome as well." Dumbledore said, his tone pointed.

"Indeed?" The examiner said mildly, mostly ignoring the older wizard. "Do you like puzzles, Harry?"

"Sure."

"What kinds of puzzles are your favorites?"

Harry looked over at Tom, confused. What kind of questioning is this? Or maybe he is being tested?

"It's ok, answer the question, Harry." Tom said, smiling.

"I don't know." Harry thought back to what puzzles he had solved in the past. Back in his first year there had been the ones that had guarded the stone, but really Ron and Hermoine had taken care of those… maybe during classes? But he wasn't really all that academic. "Maybe tactics?"

Everyone in the room tensed. /: Way to assure them you are not a Dark Lord, Harry.:/ Voldemort commented dryly.

"Like in Quidditch?" Harry offered, wincing a bit internally.

"You like Quidditch?" The examiner continued, humming a bit to himself. "Who is your favorite team?"

"Er…" Harry hadn't really followed Quidditch too avidly outside of Hogwarts. "The Canons?" He offered, hoping they still… already? existed.

He didn't get a sense either way, though, from the responses of the examiner. "Why do you like them?"

"A friend did." Harry said. Does? Will? "I like Hogwarts games." Harry offered. Tom looked at him sharply. Harry started to feel a bit nervous.

"Have you been to Hogwarts before?"

Harry frowned. He couldn't answer no or maybe, as he had in his other dimension. Had he been to Hogwarts before in this one? He decided to not say anything.

"He hasn't before this year." Tom said calmly.

"I see."

Harry winced, this time externally. This whole thing was giving him a head ache. /:We could blow up the Ministry.:/ Voldemort suggested hopefully. Harry didn't dismiss the idea out of hand like he probably should have.

"We already established that Harry has memories from a previous life." Tom said evenly.

"At the least." Dumbledore added. Tom didn't react to the comment.

"Indeed." The examiner said, smiling at Harry. "How about school, how do you like school, Harry?"

/:Merlin's balls! Just let me talk to them.:/

/Because they can all speak Parsletongue./ Harry scoffed.

"That expression, Harry- is there something that bothers you about the question?"

"The question? It just seems pretty pointless to me. But the expression? I was talking to the soul of a Dark Lord. He's actually quite humorous at times."

"Harry!" The cry came from many throats, and one mind.

"What?" Harry asked, throwing his arms up. "I'm tired of being so Slytherin about everything. It's so stressful." He ignored the scandalized looks from his Head of House and assistant, as well as the furious hissing inside his mind. He crossed his arms and pouted some more. He knew he was being childish, but short of actually taking up Voldemort on his offer, it was the only option he felt he could live with without screaming in frustration.

The examiner chuckled and Harry glared at him, though his eyes remained hazel.

"Alright, Harry, what is it you want to say?"

Harry looked up. Despite his earlier claim to be tired of thinking like a Slytherin he weighed his options. "I have something dangerous in me, but I doubt that there is anything anyone can do about it. Has there ever been two souls in one body, both who are Horucruxes to each other? I don't think so. I've tried suicide and exorcism. That didn't work. At all. And I'd rather not try anything else. Pain I could live with if it meant that I could be free, I would suffer through it. But I've got this disturbing feeling that I'll just suffer. Possibly forever."

The wizards and witches in the room looked at him, most with horror, some with fear. Harry just shrugged and leaned back against the chair with a sigh. Nothing they could do to him would be worse than what he'd done to himself- with the help of his deceased loved ones. He scowled but didn't open his eyes as discussions went on around him. He decided not to pay attention to it. Maybe he could Apparate away and join the centaurs in whatever they were doing and figure out what files the dragon had been talking about. Centaurs were normally a pretty good sort, and Harry had a pretty good idea about what their problem was with the wizarding world. This reality was much better about muggle prejudice, but if anything was worse about non-humans, and even infected humans like the werewolves. If they labeled him as non-human, maybe he would be forced to go rogue with them. The idea had a certain charm to it, though Harry was uneasy, both to leave the people he had met so far, and because it seemed like the gateway to becoming a Dark Lord. Again, in one of their cases.

/: You should pay attention to what they are saying- they are deciding your fate without you :/

/Since when has anyone taken my opinions into anything anyway? It might as well be another damn prophecy./ Harry grumbled, not paying any more attention nor opening his eyes. /You can give me the main points later./

/: Or just tell you whatever I want to in order to get you to do what I want.:/

/Yeah. You could./ Harry said, fantasizing about escaping and killing more of Fenrir's pack. It was the most useful he had felt since waking up in a kid's body.

Voldemort didn't say anything else, though his thoughts swirled against Harry's contemplatively.

"Harry?" Harry opened his eyes, looking at Tom, who was looking distinctly frazzled. He smiled weakly at Harry, making the smaller boy think that it hadn't been the first time that his name had been called. "They are ready to leave you, do you have anything else you want to say?"

Harry looked at the examiner, who still looked quite friendly, to the three women behind him, who all looked rather hostile. /Quick version?/

There was a pause in which Harry thought the other version wouldn't answer him. /:They are talking about Dementors.:/

"I don't want to hurt anyone." Harry said and left it at that. He knew that they would take it as a threat, but he wasn't quite sure that he hadn't meant it as one.

Harry felt the cold coming upon him and grinned. They weren't playing around.

"So, you ostracize people that get attacked by werewolves, but you still associate with Dementors?" Harry shook his head. "I suppose discrimination is considered irrationalfor a reason." He stood from the chair and tucked the pillow under his arm just as the Dementors entered the room. They had taken his wand, but so had Voldemort when he had been captured.

/: More than once. :/ Voldemort was sure to point out, his soul purr/hissing in anticipation.

Dumbledore was standing up from where he was leaning against the wall, looking like he was getting ready to sacrifice himself again to contain a menace.

Harry lifted his arm to the Dementor. The creature's dry crackling hiss came to Harry's ears and the sound of screaming and the flash of green lights played in the back of his mind as he gathered a handful of the cloth in his hands. They looked small and fragile against the billowing cloth and the fabric burned in the way of things that were intensely cold.

"Harry, please, get away from that. Come here, I'll protect you." Tom sounded frantic, desperate. But Harry didn't have to look back to know that Dumbledore would stop, or at least try to stop Tom before anyone could save Harry from the horror in front of him.

"It's alright, Tom." Harry said. He felt an odd tugging, that was somehow familiar. Or rather, was familiar to one of them.

/:It's trying to take out our souls.:/ Voldemort seemed much more pleased than the statement seemed to warrant. /:It isn't working. It will never work.:/

/You don't know that./ Harry said, watching his last hope for vanquishing Voldemort slipping through his increasingly frost-bitten fingers. Memories were pushed through him, compression of years of studying soul magic and forbidden Dark Arts running over him and attempting to merge with his consciousness. If he could trust what he was being sent, then Voldemort is telling the truth. More than that, the outside pull of the Dementor had given enough of a basis to see that they could determine that nothing would be likely to tear them apart- it seemed that even a brief holiday in the afterlife was not going to break the binding between them.

"Prophecies are apparently stronger than how much you can suck." Harry told the Dementor matter of factly. "Which I suppose is good- it was a pretty stupid plan." Only a moment had passed while he was conversing with himself- Tom was still struggling to get to him, the aurors and Dumbledore keeping him back. James, Snape and Remus were huddling against the wall, looking pale. Huddling in a big ball against each other, actually, much to Harry's amusement.

The Dementor was getting impatient, it lowered its head to his, the mouth becoming more visible. Harry was ready for it.

A hand pulled him back from the creature, and made the thing step back. Harry looked up in confusion to the auror. She looked down at him with a frown. "No letting yourself get Kissed, now, kid. You haven't been through all the trials, the committees, the paperwork and such." She looked like she would rather just get it over with now.

"See, Tom. He is in good hands." Harry looked back at the Dementor, which looked as annoyed as Harry was that the confrontation had been interrupted. "We can't let him back into the school." Dumbledore said with finality and a tone that really got on Harry's nerves, especially if he meant what Harry thought he meant. "The Ministry won't take a child to Azkaban…" though Dumbledore clearly felt that that would be best, "but there need to be precautions in place in the holding cells."

/:Just kill the damned Dementor.:/

Harry smirked suddenly. He twisted out of the auror's grasp, his red eye dull with deeper sparkles and the green one glowing almost yellow-bright. He leapt onto the Dementor, pulling off it's hood and grabbing it's bony white skull. If only it had a pair of red glowing eyes it might be as ugly as Voldemort's reincarnated body was.

The spell was fueled by a touch of indignation at the comment, but it only made the blinding silver of the spell all the more impressive. "Expecto patronum!" Harry crowed. The patronus formed inside the Dementor, tearing it apart from the inside out, converting it into a sparkling corporeal patronus. Instead of the stag he was expecting, though, it was in the form of a goat.

Harry stared at it. It stared back before twisting around into the hallway, chasing after the other Dementor that had come. The inhuman wails trailed off down the hallway. Inside the room there was silence. Inside Harry's head there was a minor battle of wills.

/A goat?/ Harry asked, putting mental pressure on the other soul to get it to speak to him.

/:Yes, a goat. My patronus is a goat. Happy?:/

/A bit, yeah./ Harry laughed a bit. Though he was disturbed that Voldemort's patronus had come out, not his. What did that mean, exactly?

A hand came down on his shoulder and Harry whipped around, his instincts from the war almost making him cast a spell wordlessly and wandlessly right into Dumbledore's face. The man looked worried. If it weren't Dumbledore Harry might have been tempted to say he looked scared. Harry looked up at him and frowned, then over at the three original aurors with their wands out, and the several more that had entered the room since he dissolved the Dementor. Tom was standing back, looking both smug and afraid as well. Severus had no expression on his face whatsoever, Remus looked confused and James looked impressed and pleased. James' expression worried him the most. It was like having the Weasley twins grinning at him- nothing good ever followed.

Harry scratched at his arm and his hand encountered shredded cloth. Harry looked down in surprise. His robe was in shreds. It looked like it had been hit with some serious spells.

/:You were. If you are going to pay this little attention to what is going on, why don't you just give control over to me? I'll kill all these aurors, get us out of here and we can take over the world with those non-humans raiders.:/

/What, and together we will be more powerful that I can possibly imagine?/ Harry scoffed. /I don't think so./ It was quite worrying that he hadn't noticed being attacked at all, though that would certainly explain the reaction of the room. Harry started as he realized he had been feeling the tatters of the cloth with his right hand- the same hand he had held onto the freezing cold cloth with so long that it had turned his fingertips black. Now he raised his hand to his face. The fingers were unharmed.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore. The old wizard's eyes hardened.

Harry slipped around him and ran to Tom, who wrapped him into a warm hug. "I don't know what to do." Harry whispered. He was lost. He wasn't sure what to do, or what he wanted to do. He felt like he wanted to tear apart warm bodies until he could find no more. But he was pretty sure, or at least hoped, that those feelings were coming from the other, not from him. "Help me?"

 


	14. Tribbles

"Albus, you can't seriously be still trying to get them to expedite something through the Ministry? Harry is obviously just a small boy, utterly confused and lost. Even if he thinks that he is an adult, his responses are much more consistent with someone with reincarnation memories."

"Of course I can. You saw what he did to the Dementor!" Albus retorted, rounding on the Slytherin Head of House.

"Gentlemen." The two turned to the examiner, a long time Ministry employee by the name of Humphrey Krimp. He was the expert when it came to interviewing children, having the most experience of any of the aurors. He had developed the quill, which was only the first level of diagnostics that he used in his interviews. "This is in the Ministry's hands, now. As much as we respect the work that you do, we will take care of it from here." Krimp arranged the colored pages and gems around the desk in front of him.

"I'm his Headmaster." Dumbledore said calmly, putting his hands into his sleeves.

"I'm his  _father_." Tom said, glaring at the older wizard.

"Mr. Riddle can wait with his son, but you should get back to Hogwarts, Headmaster." Krimp said. Albus looked quite put out, but couldn't argue further. After all, he had been the one who had gotten Harry arrested. He had, in fact, set up the school trip for that express purpose. The raid by the militant group had been a delightful bonus as it had shown exactly what Harry was capable of. And only a few had died in the raid.

"Quite right. Classes will resume on Monday as usual and I have some history professors to interview. I'll see you then, Tom." Albus said, before sweeping out of the office to the Apparation point. He could do more to get things moving his way from Hogwarts, where he had access to his contacts and the various intelligences he had fostered in the magical community. If Tom were thinking clearly and not so concerned for the boy, then he would similarly be leaving to take care of the political back stage. Albus frowned as he stepped into the leaving point and Apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts. Unless Tom was unconcerned because his wife was taking care of the political maneuvering while he dealt with the child. If so, a change of tactics were in order. The woman could be downright vicious.

oOoOoOo

Harry was sitting on Snape's lap again in yet another detainment room. This one, however, had walls that shimmered with powerful wards under Harry's magical sight. He was securely locked in, with an auror scowling at him and the three year-mates who were awkwardly standing about. James looked about as confused as he possibly could to why he was still hanging around. Likely it was due to Remus, who was still staring at Harry with his utterly human brown eyes that were shining with something close to hero worship (Harry had seen enough of it to recognize it almost viscerally) and a fierce determination that would have been more in place on the former werewolf's face if the 'former' part didn't apply. Both Harry and Snape were ignoring them, however.

Harry was still trying to get a handle on his emotions and thoughts. He still wanted to sink his hands into flesh and rip it apart, but at the same time he was completely content to snuggle with his former Potions professor. It was positively dizzying. Added to that the hostility that Dumbledore had for him… he really was hoping he could just die and get it over with. The fear of the unknown in this case was not applicable. Not for the first time he roundly cursed his father and godfather. What idiots.

"So… a Horucrux?" James tried to start up a conversation to fill the silence. He got three incredulous looks for his effort. "You know, Grindewald did some research on them." He tried again.

"Grindewald? What do you know about him?" Harry asked dubiously. He was willing to be distracted by just about anything at this point.

James looked just as relieved to have found something to talk about. "I've been studying all about him, actually. That period of history is absolutely fascinating- what with the Muggles having a war at the same time, and how they were all tangled together, and the politics of the situation! It's much the same as these days over the non-humans, I think. I'm working on my Master's thesis in History to try to tie it together in a new and original way. It's really quite tricky because just about everyone on the review council is very traditional and don't want to hear theories like mine, except Dumbledore of course, but that's a whole other problem seeing as how he was childhood friends with Grindewald and defeated him and everything- it's very intimidating to try to get research out of him and then to present it back without feeling like a total prick."

Harry blinked back at his sort-of-father. He was somewhat stunned by the gush of information. It didn't seem like Potter was just nervous, a shine had come into his eyes that Harry had rarely seen outside of a few cases. One of which was Hermione when she had just finished reading some sort of esoteric Runes book that 'tied together all the theories so handily' or something to that effect.

"James, you're disturbing the poor kid." Remus said with a laugh. He turned back to Harry with a glint in his eyes. "Don't worry, Harry. He has that same effect on everyone- if your eyes weren't glazing over I would be worried about you."

James glared as Remus, but the interruption seemed to have set him back on tract. "But the Horucruxes- that's seriously Dark magic." He muttered worriedly.

"What do you know about it, Potter?" Severus snarled half-heartedly, squeezing Harry almost more than was properly comfortable.

"Not too much- there isn't really much to know as the information on how to do it is basically systematically found and destroyed. Only the cautionary tales remain."

/:Except in the Chamber.:/ came the faint thought, so faint that Harry was pretty sure Voldemort hadn't meant for him to hear it. Harry made a resolution to go down to the Chamber and destroy the documents as soon as he possibly could.

"Cautionary tales?" Harry murmured to himself. "Nothing could be as terrible as the truth."

"Immortality can be quite the draw." Remus replied, his face haunted. Like Horucruxes, being a werewolf conferred many benefits, including provisional immortality, though the consequences were as dire.

"You don't have to worry about that any more, Remus." James said after an awkward silence.

The brief attempt at conversation died. James was starting to twitch as he stood there, though the other three were able to keep still as their minds went into deep contemplation.

"So…" James tried again, though he clearly could think of nothing to say that would not result in getting himself hexed.

"Nothing is keeping you here, Potter." Snape snarled.

James ran a hand through his hair, messing it up farther, and huffed out a large sigh.

Harry started at the gesture and ran his hand through his own hair, noticing how tame it was with the comparison right in front of him. Snape caught his arm and forcefully pulled it down. "Don't imitate him. He looks like an idiot when he does that."

James smirked at Snape and struck a pose. "You just can't come to terms with your repressed feelings for me and the sexual frustration makes you cranky." James stated with confidence.

"James." Remus sighed.

James pulled around the chair behind him that he had been ignoring in favor of being able to stand and pace and twirled it so that the back was facing Harry and Snape. He straddled the chair and propped his elbows on the back. "Just trying to lighten the mood. I do a good job, don't I, Harry?"

"Er…" On the one hand, Harry was glad of the distraction, but on the other, Snape looked ready to start cursing the lanky Gryffindor and Harry wasn't sure that would be very relaxing. Especially if he ended up dumped on the floor.

Thankfully he was saved from having to find out as the door opened. In came a cadre of Ministry officials and Tom Riddle. This holding cell was much bigger than the first one, so they all fit.

A woman looked down at Harry. Snape set him on his feet and stood up himself, followed by James. "Hello, Harry." She said, her stern face not lightening in the least as she looked at him. She reminded Harry a bit of a plump version of McGonagall. Except without the accent. "I am the incumbent Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold. We have reviewed your case and your responses to the questions and have determined that we have no legal standing to keep you here."

Harry looked at her in shock, then turned to look at Tom. Though he looked pleased, he was not ecstatic. Harry wondered what in the world was going on.

/:They figured out that regardless of whether we represent a case of Dark Artefact and non-human life or this 'reincarnation' business, we are too powerful for them to do anything about. The weaklings have been marginally intelligent and bowed out before they embarrass themselves.:/

/I didn't ask you./ Harry muttered with a glare at the basilisk soul.

/:I couldn't stand your pathetic confusion any longer.:/

/Watch it, or I'll hug you again./ Harry retorted absently, trying to listen to the Minister as she outlined what they had found in the various reports- nothing he could really understand, but maybe Tom would be able to translate for him later.

/:What? Like this?:/ Came the mischievous reply. Harry went on high alert as he would  _never_  attribute such an emotion to the Dark Lord. But he was still caught off guard as the basilisk soul wrapped around his own. He felt surrounded by warmth and just the right amount of loving pressure. It felt good. It was completely disturbing. Before Harry could figure out how to react, however, the coils unwrapped, even more disturbingly feeling like a caress. Voldemort shot off into the deepest recesses of his mind and became entirely silent.

"Harry!" Harry blinked and came back to reality, looking up at Tom.

"What?" Harry asked, responding both to what had just happened and his name being called.

"The Minister is talking to you." Tom said. Now he was looking a bit worried.

"Sorry." Harry said almost silently, trying to focus back on the woman that, though formidable, was nowhere near the primary of Harry's concerns at the moment.

"I said, do you understand the terms." Minister Bagnold said, sounding irritated.

"Er… what were they again?" Harry was starting to feel more present in the conversation as he began to get embarrassed at essentially tuning out the woman who was giving him his freedom.

"You are to return with your adoptive father to the house and you are not to go out without being accompanied by him or your foster mother. And when you do, you need to alert the Ministry as to where you will be going."

"Aren't I a minor or something? This is something that you should tell Tom." Harry asked, confused and a bit frustrated about the bureaucratic non-sense when he could barely figure out what he was thinking about things that actually mattered.

Minister Bagnold's eyebrow started to twitch. "He has already agreed to the terms, but considering your unique circumstances, the Ministry felt that you should be informed of them as well."

"Do I have to tell you where I'm going for all my classes, too?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"You won't be returning to Hogwarts." She said, with finality.

"What! But the classes are so interesting! Especially the Bloo…" Voldemort's outburst slipped through Harry's lips before he shoved the other soul back to where it had been hiding and nearly hit it hard enough to drop himself to the floor from reciprocal pain.

"From what I understand you are quite accomplished with spells already." The Minister said, her eyebrow raising in a way that meant she probably knew the end of what Harry was saying and that his case was not being helped by his desire to study Blood magics.

Harry coughed into his fist and looked down. "Yes, ma'am."

"Do you understand the terms then, Mr. O'Donnell?" She asked pointedly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you agree to abide by them?"

"Yes, ma'am." Harry decided not to argue about the whole thing. It wasn't as though he thought that he should be wandering around unsupervised either. In fact, he would prefer to go to Azkaban… especially as then he could tear apart Dementors and quench some bloodlust without feeling guilty. Which was probably exactly why he was going on house arrest instead. "Are you going to do anything to me?" He asked, somewhat hoefully.

The Minister looked at him dubiously. "There will be researchers who will look into the situation and may visit you at your house." Bagnold answered after regarding him. "But from what I have been told, this is something that must be resolved by the individual in question. At least so far as the scant information we have suggests."

"Right." Harry said, remembering the Chamber. "Can I go back to Hogwarts and get my stuff?"

"Your things have already been transported back to your house." An auror said impatiently, fingering his wand somewhat inconspicuously. Harry likely wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't had the same sort of wand holster for a while. It was great for concealed carrying, but was somewhat dicey for the quick draw.

"I hid some things." Harry said, trying to look little and innocent. Which, considering what his body looked like, was pretty easy, even when the recipients of his puppy eyes were aware of his inner demon. "Treasures." He said, cheering to himself at the sudden inspiration.

"Very well. A team will escort you to pick up those few items, and then you shall return to your house."

"Okay." Harry said.

/:You could have Tom fetch them.:/ Voldemort said, sounding bored. Harry could feel an undercurrent of unease in the other soul, however.

/What are you up to?/ Harry asked him warily.

Voldemort just scoffed at Harry's blatant approach. Harry tried to grab onto the basilisk as it curled deeper in their subconscious, but when his mental hands grasped the scales a loop wrapped around his wrist and for a second they were holding on to each other… and then Harry shuddered and let the scaly body go. Weren't snakes supposed to be cold? Hadn't Voldemort's soul-basilisk been cold before? What the hell was going on.

Harry was steered out of the room by Tom's hand on the small of his back.

Remus leaned down as he passed them. "We'll come have a Fenrir's dead werewolf liberation party at your house, Harry. With a big cake, ok?"

Harry smiled. "Alright." The two Gryffindors went to pass them and Harry suddenly grabbed the back of James' robe. "Hey."

James looked down at him. "Yeah?"

"If Snape ever started flirting back with you, what would you do?"

James turned a bit pale and almost green around the gills. "He definitely wouldn't."

"But if he did?" Harry asked desperately. "Like maybe you hugged him, and then he hugged you back and started getting affectionate?"

James looked at him oddly. "You trying to get me laid, kid?" He shook his head. "Well, I guess that would mean the way to Lily's heart would be open, wouldn't it?" He frowned. "Though she's sort of kinky. She might decide she wanted both of us."

It was Harry's turn to feel sick as the mental image came to him, though fortunately this time Voldemort was hiding deep enough that he didn't get actual  _memories_  to color in the picture, just his imagination. It didn't help that James was actually looking rather contemplative.

"It's not going to happen, Potter." Snape snarled from behind Tom. "Keep walking."

"Sometimes the questions of children carry the wisdom of…mmph!" James looked down at Harry like his new puppy had just peed on his broom. Harry just raised an eyebrow at James, whose lips were currently sealed. With hot pink stitches.

"Harry, please." Tom said, waving his wand to dispel the charm on James. "Let's just grab this thing you need and go home." He sounded so worn down that Harry just nodded. Unfortunately, the trip to Hogwarts was doomed to be anything but quiet.

oOoOoOo

As soon as the group of five aurors, Tom, Snape and Harry had reached what Harry thought was both the farthest their route would take them to the second floor girls' bathroom and where there were sufficient things to trip up pursuers, Harry burst into action. He leapt backwards into the closest auror, throwing the witch off balance enough for him to dart around her. He cast a shield behind him to counteract the stunners coming his way and had to duck under several attempts to grab him. He hopped over a hobbling spell before skidding around the corner and taking off.

Harry raced down the corridors at speeds no human could possibly match, only a bit guilty about breaking the likely delicate political balance that had been reached on his behalf. He slipped and crashed into a wall as he made it into the bathroom, for a second thinking that Myrtle had flooded it again before having the jarring realization that she was actually his adoptive mother, still alive and not haunting anything.

:Open.: He hissed at the entrance, then leapt down to take the quicker (and more fun) tube route rather than wait for the stairs to form.

:Oh, hello Speaker.: the basilisk says as she looked at Harry fondly, her third eyelids over her glowing golden eyes. Harry paused and stared at her, wondering if he could manage being petrified as a way to neutralize himself. He wished that he had asked Hermione what it was like. But it would be just his luck to wake up from being petrified in the clutches of some dark cult that was about to bind him to do their Dark deeds. Probably not a good idea. :Hello I said.: The basilisk said again, annoyed that he had been just staring at her.

:Er… hi. Can you get me to the library?:

:I don't know that I will.: She huffed, turning and slithering away into a tunnel.

"Alright." Harry said out loud, looking at the large head with some consternation. He considered whether he wanted to try to drag the information out of Voldemort, but that might involve touching him. In fact, it almost certainly would. And that was entirely too pleasant and experience to be a pleasant experience. Harry winced at the awful sentence.

:You speak the tongue of humans, now?: The basilisk asked, coming back around.

Harry looked at her in confusion. "English?" He asked, in that language.

:How delightful! You need to start breeding right away. There was that small human with dirt-colored hair that was following your around- maybe with that one.:

:Jeff?: Harry asked incredulously.

:Yes! I believe that was the name.:

:Jeff is a male.: Harry replied, now even more disturbed. Between James, Voldemort and now the basilisk he was beginning to think there was a conspiracy on trying to turn him gay.

:Oh, too bad. Well you should have multiple mates anyway. I smelled a female on the taller thin male that was with you. You could steal that female from him. And then there was the female that was in the bathroom. I believe she is the mate of the other Speaker, though, so perhaps she should remain with him.:

Harry hadn't heard the end of the comment, which was probably just as well. The snake trying to hook him up with Moaning Myrtle might have been the end of his sanity, even without having the meddling beast tell him he should try to have sex with Lily.

:Look, can you just open the library?:

:First things first I suppose. The first master did have an extensive collection of books on how to properly mate with others of your species.:

Harry wondered desperately if the snake had any concept whatsoever of too much information.

As it turned out, the basilisk was correct. The first five books he opened that looked like they were about Horucruxes had illustrations that proved that they most definitely not. In full color with movements helpfully enchanted into the pages. Even knowing that he was running out of time Harry ended up mesmerized several times as he tried to figure out what was going on in the picture, and then if it really was physically possible. Reading the captions for a few he realized that they  _weren't_ , at least, not without the charms that were outlines in the text. "I'm beginning to have some very disturbing thoughts about what you did down here, Voldie." Harry muttered to himself, blushing a bit as he opened one book that was not just two consenting adults… there were many more than just two, and some of the 'adults' were definitely not human.

Harry felt a flash of fear, rage and frustration as his finger moved to the next book. He grinned widely as he opened it and saw detailed how-to's on Horcruxes. With a great deal of satisfaction he called up some magical fire and burned the book to ash, having to increase the power in the spell significantly in order to bypass the wards on it. Voldemort rushed to the front of his mind and tried to shred his thoughts, but Harry took that as a good sign. Though the pain he could still feel the spikes of emotion when he reached a useful book. He burned seven before Voldemort's struggles turned to despair.

Harry double checked all the rest of the books, opening his mind as wide as possible to the other in order to make sure he wasn't missing anything because Voldemort was trying to hide it. Harry found that it was relatively easy to feel out the other's emotions. He could even feel layers to them, from surface ones he'd always picked up through his scar deep down into ones that it seemed Voldemort wasn't even aware of himself. Harry pulled back hastily. He didn't know what to make of all the various impressions he was getting and even if he did, he wasn't sure he wanted to know in that much detail. It felt much more intimate than the 'hugs' they had been doing lately, besides which, it gave Harry a whole host of uncomfortable emotions he didn't want to deal with thinking that Voldemort probably could see that deeply into him, possibly always had.

Harry left the library and was walking back to then entrance when Tom and the others finally found him, all out of breath from trying to keep up with him. "Harry." Tom said, looking at the much smaller wizard with despair in his eyes. "Why did you do that?"

"I had to." Harry said, then shrugged.

Tom closed his eyes as if he was in pain. Harry grabbed at his chest, wondering if he was hurting the other man. Actually, now that he thought about it, that hadn't really happened for a while.

"I wish you hadn't, Harry. We finally got these things worked out tentatively, and then you rub it in their faces that nothing we can do will affect you in the least."

Harry just looked down at the ground as the aurors got over their fear of the basilisk curled up with one eye only half open as she watched the most recent invasion of her den and came over to cast binding spells on Harry and carry him away. Harry didn't resist at all, nor did he say anything to Tom. What was there to say? Everyone present knew that it was true, much as everyone also wished it wasn't. Well, with one exception. But he wasn't in control of the body at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 've taken some artistic license with the werewolves in this story. I have no idea whether canon werewolves are immortal or not. More likely not, seeing as how crappy Remus looks. But I'm going to pretend that comes from fighting it and/or taking Wolfs' Bane and/or not eating humans. Anyway it doesn't really affect the story. I also probably took advantage of making up a 'cure.' Some werewolf stories (where it's really a curse, not a 'virus' or something else biological) have it so that if you kill the biter wolf, then the bitee wolves will turn back, which I thought fit better with a magical world anyway. Added bonus it worked better for the plot, too.
> 
> I also made Millicent Bagnold the Minister, but maybe had a bit of something politically weird hinted at, as she was the Minister the year afterthis story takes place, but I didn't feel like making a Minister up when it was going to be a relatively minor role anyway. And it seems plausible that she had a bit longer a term (though maybe a bit unlikely as it's already a 10 year term). Whatevers.


	15. Tag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Skip *Harry has been attempting to lay low for ~1 year...*

The large grey wolf with one red eye and one green tore the throat out of the yet larger tan wolf, then spun to avoid the attack from a sleek black she-wolf. He spit the mauled flesh from his mouth and crunched down on her skull, crushing it with a satisfying crackling crunch.

The wolf spit again and then rubbed his muzzle with paws and tongue before shaking himself out and turning back into a small boy.

"I must say, that is absolutely the best way to kill a werewolf." Harry said with no small amount of satisfaction. Voldemort glowed inside him in perfect agreement. "The irony is perfectly wonderful, and the chance of contracting the illness nil." He waved his hand at the two bodies, causing them to burn with such fierce energy that he had to close his eyes; the painful heat was too intense for his tears to protect him. When the white glare died down there wasn't so much as a scorch mark to indicate that there had ever been anything there.

Harry sighed and stepped back within the confines of the Fidelius charm. The werewolves couldn't pin his exact location down, but they could all sense him. Apparently ripping the beating heat out of the head of the British werewolf pack had made him the new Alpha. Of course. Nothing ever happened to Harry in half measures, nor Voldemort for that matter. Together their luck was truly cataclysmic.

Usually Harry ignored the werewolves pacing about the town slavering after his blood, so long as they were discreet about it. That particular mated pair, however, had been anything but. They hadn't taken their Wolfsbane and had instead gone on a merry rampage. Or would have, anyway, if Harry hadn't come out of the cheery garden to deal with them.

/Can we kill the others, too?: Voldemort asked hopefully.

"No." Harry replied, not bothering to speak mentally now that everyone knew he had a 'friend upstairs' as Jeff put it. Especially since they could all tell when he was think-speaking with Voldemort anyway and would demand to know what they were saying. "Some of them are here to just to see what their new Master intends." Some part of Harry felt immensely pleased with the concept of 'Master' and he resolved to cuddle with Myrtle for a good half hour tonight. Voldemort still had pained shudders at prolonged physical contact with others that did not involve torture, though he seemed to becoming more immune to it. And he was totally immune to the mental caresses, though Harry was happy enough to stop those, as they felt really weird for him as well. Harry wondered if his 'punishments' of physical hugs would become as ineffective, and whether that would be a success and battle won in humanizing Voldemort, or just another expression of him being the penultimate Slytherin.

/I don't see why not. That would satisfy both blood lust and your annoying needs to 'save people' and do 'good deeds'.: Voldemort pouted, curling his awareness into Harry's left arm so that he could pick the petals off a violet.

Harry swatted Voldemort out of his arm, but continued to maul the flower. "They aren't all bad. I think at least some of them were never human, actually. Wouldn't it be interesting if werewolves could become a separate species entirely?"

"Harry!" Myrtle's voice called from the house, cheerfully oblivious that her adoptive son had killed three beings today- only one of which was a plant. "Lunch!"

Harry got to his feet and walked slowly back to the house. He could have flashed there in an instant, but that both scared others and didn't let him enjoy the smells of the garden. "Stop and smell the roses, indeed." Harry muttered.

"There you are, dear." Myrtle said fondly, using the edge of her apron to wipe something off Harry's face. He was momentarily worried, but saw that it was merely dirt. Harry took in a deep breath and savored the scent of cinnamon.

"Muffins?" Harry asked hopefully.

"That's right. Your favorite: pumpkin banana." Myrtle smiled.

Harry grinned and accepted the warm fresh-out-of-the-oven muffin from the witch and pulled off a steaming piece and popped it into his mouth.

"Don't ruin your appetite- you have a real lunch right here."

Harry nodded and hopped up into the chair that was still too tall for his legs to do anything but dangle and swing. He tugged his napkin out from under his rat, who gave him a baleful glare before going back to her nap, and put the muffin on top of it before tucking in. Lunch today was battered fish patties and broccoli. The vegetables were charmed into dinosaur shapes that tried to attack each other when they weren't trying to escape from the fish-stick corral or his fork. "You know you don't have to charm my food, Myrtle." Harry said with fond amusement. He bit off the head of a Broccoli-saurus Rex and chewed it happily.

"Oh nonsense. Everyone likes their broccoli better when it's fighting them."

Harry snorted. It certainly was better than biting the heads off of werewolves, anyway, so far as the taste was concerned. For satisfaction and enjoyability, though? Maybe not.

Myrtle sat down across the table from him, looking serious. Harry raised a brow at her. "Tomorrow the Ministry is coming back to take a look at you, Harry." Harry just kept eating his lunch, not wanting the muffin to cool of entirely before he finished. "It's almost time for the next school year."

Harry regarded her calmly. He and Voldemort had been on their best behavior since the Chamber incident. Harry didn't regret destroying the books, even though they had been the only chance he had to possibly separate himself from Voldemort. Chances were, they hadn't had any useful information for him, especially since the divine powers had essentially told him they had set up the whole situation on purpose. It was much more important for this world to remain free of any Voldemort-like Horucrux situations. The whole business was simply too messy to abide. Wizards and witches had enough to worry about just with magic such as the Unforgivables and the ridiculously vast array of potions and poisons and Dark Creatures.

"If they decide you can't go to school again, you'll always have a place here."

"Thank you." Harry sighed. "It's entirely possible that they never will." He shrugged, though Myrtle looked pained at the statement. "I don't blame them. I either have a mass murderer from another realm trapped inside my head via deepest Dark magics, or I'm a delusional reincarnation of the same." He sighed and speared the Stega-broccoli-saurus with his fork and bit it in half. "And even if they didn't know that part, I still wouldn't trust me in a school full of children."

"Oh, Harry." Myrtle sighed.

"Don't worry. I'm used to it." He paused with an odd expression on his face. "Actually  _we're_  used to it. I'll try to keep all our reactions more in line with what I ended up doing, though."

If anything this seemed to upset Myrtle more.

"It's ok, really. I mean, by the time I actually look eleven maybe the world will be used to me." Harry thought about it with some distaste. In the past year he had grown so little that the magical tape measurer had simply tssked at him and told him to eat more. But he was growing; growing very very slowly. He would not be stuck as a child for the rest of eternity… just for the next thirty years or so. "Hey, everyone always complains that they're kids grow up too fast, right?" Harry tried to joke as he saw Myrtle's eyes starting to mist up.

However, the joke fell flat and apparently was the last straw so far as Myrtle's mothering instincts were concerned. He found himself half-suffocating in a warm hug. Voldemort gave a half-hearted grumble in the back of Harry's mind, but knew it was useless to protest. "We haven't explored all the options yet, Harry dear. Tom is working on some very promising leads right now… why, just your presence has inspired six breakthroughs in the subjects of soul magic, Arithmancy and how we deal with ghosts… It's only a matter of time."

"Mmff." Harry tried to respond, but he was being too thoroughly smothered.

OOoOoOoOOoo

Harry was hiding behind a bush, his magical powers tucked as close to his body as possible, his ears straining to catch the slightest noise.

"Got you!"

"Ahhh!" Harry screamed, startled, falling onto his face when he tried to stand on legs that had gone to sleep.

"Haha! You're so grammatic, Harry."

Harry rolled over and sent up a half-hearted glare at the young girl, a Squib who looked suspiciously like a Malfoy. "I think you mean 'dramatic', Elly."

"That's what I said." She replied primly, nose in the air and looking even more strongly like the aristocratic purebloods.

Harry sighed and flung his hands out as dramatically as possible, earning a giggle from the little girl. "I suppose this means I'm it?"

"Yup."

Harry watched her scamper off before closing his eyes and counting to ten at the top of his lungs.

/Why are we doing this?: Voldemort asked with more bemusement than annoyance. He asked the same question every afternoon when the other orphans, cast-a-ways and seized children came back from the mixed Muggle and magical prep school and it was a nice enough day outside to run in the gardens.

"You know you enjoy it, you old shoelace." Harry muttered in between nine and three quarters and nine and four fifths. "Ten!" He leapt up and smack into the chest of a surprised Auror. "Oof!" Harry complained as he bounced off and landed back on his butt.

/This would be precisely the reason that we shouldn't tuck all our magic inside to play foolish games.:

/It's not fair otherwise, and besides, it's not like they can hurt us./ Harry replied mentally as he looked the Auror over.

"Were you just talking to yourself?" The wizard asked, his eyes narrowing. "They told me about the slightly vacant look and the sparkles."

Harry winced. He had been hoping to fool him, having never seen the Auror before. "Just talking about the game." A twinkle came into Harry's eyes. He rushed forward (with absolutely normal child's speed) and poked the wizard in the side. "You're it!"

The wizard stared at him like he was completely nuts. Which, considering all he'd been doing for a year was playing with children, physically tearing apart werewolves and reading stuffy books on magical theory… well, it was entirely possible.

"You're supposed to count to ten." Harry said helpfully, trying for an innocent look but pretty sure he was smirking. The wizard ran his wand over where Harry had touched him suspiciously. Harry turned away and yelled, "The new 'it' is refusing their lofty position!"

A baker's dozen heads popped up from various hiding places- one surprising Harry by being behind a tuft of grass not five feet away from them.

/That child has the makings of a great assassin.: Voldemort hissed approvingly in Harry's mind. Harry rolled his eyes and watched the riotous band of kids attack the Auror, most clinging to his legs or robes.

"What?" The Auror said, looking down in bewilderment.

"It's the rules. If you don't play the game properly, it becomes reverse-it." Harry said matter of factly. The Auror glared at him. "Don't blame me, it was Bill's idea." Harry said, nodding to a tan boy missing his front teeth.

"Harry!" Myrtle's scandalized shout brought Harry's attention back toward the house.

"Yeees?" Harry said, drawing the word out and smirking.

"All of you go get changed. It's almost time for dinner." Myrtle shooed the children from their perches on the bemused law enforcement agent and back into the house. She turned back to Harry, who was attempting to look guileless again, but still pretty sure he was failing to look anything but mischievous. "What are you doing?" She asked in exasperation.

"Trying to reclaim a childhood that was taken away from me in three separate lifetimes by engaging in harmless fun?"

"Oh, you." She smiled, swatting him and shooing him toward the house as well. "The Ministry has seen fit to come a day early." Harry looked up at her worried face and reached out a small hand to hers and gave her hand a slight squeeze before dropping it.

Harry found the various Ministry officials seated around their large living room. Tom was standing in a corner scowling. Harry felt the prickle of magic on the back of his head and saw Dumbledore in the opposite corner, eyeing him warily. The children's examiner Mr. Krimp was in the middle, with various Aurors and officials standing and sitting, all facing a chair by Tom that was empty. Harry went and sat in it.

Mr. Krimp cleared his throat and looked at Harry calmly. "Hello, Harry."

Harry waved. "Hi."

Mr Krimp held up a piece of paper and started reading off of it. "Harry O'Donnell, proven dark artifact of class Horucrux, age unknown, male, under custody of Tom Riddle and Myrtle O'Donnell. Power level is over nine thousand."

Harry looked at the man curiously. When all he got was a questioning stare, he nodded.

"We have reviewed what you have been doing for the last year. Would you like to say it in your own words?"

Harry shrugged. "Playing around and reading old books, mainly." He grimaced at the last part. As interesting as they were, especially with Voldemort to add more enthusiasm to the words, he still couldn't believe how much of it he had been doing.

"Are you aware that there is a rapidly diminishing population of werewolves after the attack on the Ministry and they all claim that you are their alpha?"

Harry this time put actual effort into his expression and succeeded on pulling off completely surprised innocence. "What's that mean?"

"That they are idiots." Tom grumbled from behind Harry, making him smirk.

Mr. Krimp merely nodded and continued with his questions. "Have you been in contact with any dragons?"

Harry blinked, this time not having to try to look innocent. He had no idea why they were asking that. "No."

"Centaurs?"

Harry looked at the guy narrowly. "No…"

"Other non-humans?"

"You guys take this human/ non-human thing way to seriously. Though I guess if you are being so genial to the Muggle-borns something else had to fill the gap in bigotry." Harry mused.

"Harry!" Tom hissed from behind him, though he sounded as pleased under the anger as the other version of his soul who was hissing happily inside Harry.

"So you have not been in contact with any non-humans?"

"I haven't left the grounds." Harry frowned, though he had. But they didn't need to know that.

"Just answer the question, Harry." Tom said, sounding a bit stressed.

"No, not unless you count the animals out in the gardens." Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

"That is good." Dumbledore said, stepping forward. Mr. Krimp looked a bit put out, but didn't comment as the Headmaster took over. "We want you- both of you- to swear that you will never act in a way that compromises the Greater Good."

Harry glared at the meddling old coot, though inside (deep, deep inside, far below where Voldemort went when hiding) he was amused. "I will do no such thing."

"A Wizard's Oath is the only way…" Dumbledore started.

"Oh, no, it's a brilliant idea." Harry interrupted, making the old wizard even more annoyed with him. "In fact, possibly the  _only_  idea that will work." He took a moment to consider the possibilities of using his own magic to bind himself. Really, it was the only way. He was simply too strong otherwise.

"Then…"

"I object to the terms of the Oath, not giving one in general." Harry interrupted Albus again, making the old wizard's eye start to twitch. "Many truly horrendous things have been done in the name of the 'Greater Good.' I've lived through one such consequence." Harry said, leaning back into the plush chair. "It's a great idea, but it will have to be handled very carefully. Very Slytherin, if you will."

Dumbledore's magic started to inflate about him, giving him the air of an enraged bird of some sort. Harry would have been more impressed if he hadn't already seen the best the wizard could do in a much more dire circumstance.

/That's a better idea than setting us up to be chained not only together, but to a promise we cannot break for all eternity.: Voldemory hissed. He seemed simply panicked at the thought of an Oath, which made Harry want to swear one all the more.

/What is a better idea?/ Harry asked, confused.

" _Psiotranlatus!"_  Dumbledore cast at Harry. Harry was so surprised at the sudden attack and Voldemort so interested in the intriguing power in the spell that they let it affect them.

Dumbledore looked entirely too pleased with himself, especially when Tom let out a grunt. Harry turned around to look at him, worried. Tom had backed up to the wall and was clutching his chest. Harry got out of the chair and moved to the center of the room until Tom's face cleared, though Harry's frown had grown considerably. Tom hadn't had this sort of reaction to him in months.

"What an intriguing spell! Soul magic, true, but so Light that it's almost unbearable." Harry looked around to see who had said that, but found everyone but Dumbledore looking at him strangely. "Why…" the voice cut off suddenly and Harry felt strangely off balance. He realized it was because his arm was raising just as his lips started to move and the voice said "Avada…"

Harry clamped his teeth shut and grabbed his left arm with his right so that it was pointing at the floor. "What did you do?" Harry asked Dumbledore, annoyed.

"He got around that annoying Parselmouth conundrum. I thank you, you doddering old fool. Now we're… no  _I'm_  one step closer to returning to my rightful place." Harry's mouth said.

"I simply made it so that you would be unable to have private discussions when we should be able to hear them." Dumbledore said, looking unruffled and grandfatherly.

"So you thought it a good idea to give the ability to cast spells to a megalomaniac that murdered more people than he or I can ever know?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well, now is the time to propose my plan for settling this whole thing." Voldemort said cheerfully. Well, as 'cheerful' as he ever got. Harry had an unsettling feeling of blood lust sweep over him, rather than actual happiness.

"Oh, no you don't!" Harry growled, wrestling with Voldemort and the spell that was cast on them. "Any 'good idea' of yours needs to be thrown out just on principle!"

"Harry, you ruin all our fun. You already stopped me from killing the doddering old fool." Voldemort sneered. Harry despaired that he looked like he was having some sort of stroke. Given the way most of the wizards and witches were backing up and hiding behind furniture, at least he looked scary, not pathetic.

"Do you see what he is? Now he can no longer hide his true perversion!" Dumbledore sad jubilantly.

Harry's vision went a bit red along the sides, and not because Voldemort was taking over, either. "You short-sighted, stuck up, arrogant, interfering washed-up has-been!" Harry roared, clenching his fists so that  _he_  didn't send a killing curse the Headmaster's way. "Are you happy now? You've made me actually dangerous rather than just  _potentially_  dangerous, all to prove your Merlin forsaken point!" A little voice in his head, which disturbingly could no longer be Voldemort, pointed out that an immortal child who could crush werewolf skulls before lunch wasn't exactly a model citizen. Since it wasn't actually another person, Harry ignored it.

"It was all in the interest of the Greater Good." Dumbledore said calmly.

"Oooh!" Harry was incoherent with rage for a good five seconds, so mad he didn't even notice that he had pushed Voldemort back and had the spell half reversed. "You!" He ground his teeth together, biting back hexes. "Outside, now!"

Voldemort laughed in glee, this time out loud and in English, so most of the room was graced with the sound, and it chilled them to their bones. "Excellent, Harry. Use your aggresive feelings! Let the hate flow through us." He raised their hand and pointed to Dumbledore. Harry was not too far gone that he would have allowed Voldemort to cast a spell. Well, not one that was harmful. Or maybe, just so long as the damage wasn't too permanent. However, hexing the Headmaster, though extremely tempting, was not what Voldemort was intending at the moment. "You heard the boy. We challenge you to a duel. You will see the futility of trying to force us to do anything, and be grateful for Harry's restraint. Perhaps you will soon realize the extent to which I am willing to go."

Dumbledore had a satisfied gleam in his eye, and the two of them realized it was because the Headmaster felt that he was being proven right. And maybe he was. But there was only so much suspicion the two of them could take, especially as only Harry had any experience ignoring it, and both of them were heartily sick of the reaction.

"Oh, stop looking so cocky, Albus. We all know that you basically helped the previous Dark Lord plan his rise to power over the corpse of your own sister. Don't try to act all high and mighty with us. Only a quirk of fate spared you from raising the next one in this world, but we remember how thoroughly you failed us. Perhaps if we had gone back far enough into the past and murdered you in your sleep the lives of three neglected boys would be spared." Harry said, or maybe it was Voldemort. They were both so mad at the Headmaster- both versions, for very similar reasons.

The Headmaster suddenly looked worn out and old, though his righteous anger kept him from going completely pale. He ended up with a chalk white face with two high spots of color on his suddenly prominent cheek bones. Seeing the Headmaster like that- almost like he had looked as he died, was enough to get Harry and Voldemort to shred apart a bit. Voldemort remembered the image with pleasure and satisfaction, whereas Harry recalled it as one of the worst moments in his life.

"Fine." Dumbledore said finally, his eyes hard and flat.


	16. Duel or Die

Harry and Voldemort cackled gleefully as they dodged a swipe from a six foot tall animated statue of a fairy (sometimes Myrtle's taste was a bit questionable) before leaping onto its arm and kneeing it in the face. The whole head shattered in a shower of plaster and Harry leapt through the debris and charged the Headmaster at approximately half his maximum speed. Even so, the Headmaster was unable to hit them with any spells. Harry somersaulted over a blasting hex, skipped around a bludgeoning charm and batted away a depilator with his hand. Reaching the older wizard who was desperately backing away, Harry tugged on the man's long beard and turned it into a dolphin.

"Come on, you old coot! You're starting to reuse spells. Be more creative." Harry or Voldemort taunted. They both were feeling much calmer after eviscerating countless summons and animated statuary.

Dumbledore looked at the two of them with something akin to disbelief. He was panting and trying to turn his beard back into facial hair but it kept smacking him with its flippers and clicking at him.

"Or do you want us to put you out of your misery?" Voldemort (probably) commented. "A thousand year sleep? Turned into a frog? I'm sure there are plenty of fun fairytale ways we could get you out of our hair for a while." Harry chuckled.

"You're only further proving my point." Dumbledore gasped out desperately as he finally turned his beard back, though it was still porpoise grey, not white.

"That even when someone really pisses me off I won't kill them if they are merely misguided rather than criminally insane and trying to kill someone?" Harry mused, sweeping his arm to the gathered aurors, some of whom were asleep even though the battle was so interesting. That would happen if you had to watch someone battling for hours. And hours. Really, almost all day. At least they got fresh muffins and tea. "Well fine, ignore my monologuing." Harry pouted with a mental smirk at Voldemort. "Maybe I should really start going in on one to change up the pace of the evening."

"You're evil!" Dumbledore cried.

"Am not!" Harry protested. "You can't label everything you can't control as evil. Heck, I'm just a kid, who potentially is just a reincarnation or magical fluke of insanity." Harry and Voldemort hoped that Dumbledore was both old enough and enough of a pureblood not to have seen Muggle horror films like the Shining and thus still have the concept of kids as cute rather than creepy.

"You're trying to destroy us! You're plotting something, I know it." Dumbledore rasped out, low enough that Harry and Voldemort suspected he hadn't really meant to say it.

"You are totally paranoid, you know that? And I think you have some serious issues with Slytherins." Dumbledore gave Harry/Voldemort an angry look. "Coming from the Headmaster of the premier school in the United Kingdom, I feel you should be more impartial." He glanced over and saw a new batch of muffins was being carried out. "Well, I'm feeling pretty satisfied, let's call it a draw." Harry muttered, licking his lips and making his way over to his adopted mother.

"Get back, here, we're not done." The Headmaster growled. Harry merely raised the eyebrow over his green eye and turned back to get a muffin. Harry instinctively dodged to the side, startled, but Voldemort reached out and snatched the sickly purple light out of the air.

"That wasn't very nice, old man." Voldemort hissed, almost slipping into Parseltongue. Harry brushed up against Voldemort lightly and learned the barely-shy-of-dark nature of the spell, which would have sent him into an eternal sleep. "What happened to concern for the spectators?" Voldemort taunted. The counterspell was well known, but it did sometimes cause severe problems with young children. "Let's take this inside, shall we?" Voldemort cooed, causing Harry to be severely discomforted.

There was a feeling of rushing and squeezing, sort of like Aparating, but strangely different. When the world settled, Harry was at Hogwarts. It was raining so hard he felt like he was going to fall over, wind pushing at his small frame. He was instantly soaking wet.

"Harry, the extent of your ineptitude never ceases to amaze me." A familiar voice broke through the elements. Harry looked up in shock as a hand was waved and a spell extended, shielding him from the rain to cover Harry as well.

Harry blinked at the semifamiliar face. The man was lean, with an open face that seemed very much a mask, especially considering the bright red eyes. "Tom?" Harry asked, confused.

The other's face broke into a wide grin. "Close, Harry." Voldemort replied.

"Why aren't you a basilisk?" Harry asked stupidly.

"He takes a different form when separated from your mind." Harry spun around, looking at a much younger Dumbledore with auburn hair. "You are seeing him as he sees himself." The younger Headmaster gave Voldemort a dirty look, though Voldemort coolly ignored him.

Harry looked down at his tiny body and frowned. Did that mean he now saw himself as a child? How depressing. He looked back at Voldemort warily, but the two were ignoring him in order to stare at each other.

"Get out." Dumbledore growled finally. The grounds of Hogwarts suddenly seemed even less welcoming, something Harry had not considered possible, especially considering the love he held for the school.

"No." Voldemort said, smirking and unaffected. "I said we were taking this inside. We are going to settle this."

"I have nothing to say to you." Dumbledore snarled. Harry could feel something swirling in the air though, and reached out to touch it.  _"You invaded my home."_  Harry blinked. The words were filled with such meaning- expanded it was more like ' _you_ /him/evil/change _invaded_ /destroyed/derailed/defiled  _my_ /greater good's/fate's  _home_ /plan/life/statis quo.' It was both more understandable for being in words and less intimate than when he connected with Voldemort's thoughts. But undeniably confusing.

"That's fine. I seem to have a penchant for monologuing, so you can just listen." Tom said, his face deadpan, though Harry could sense the mental wink at the joke shared between them and a sense of approval. For what? Harry wondered. "You see, at this point I would be content if you would simply stop trying your damndest to make our life miserable and gave us some breathing room. I'm not really feeling like I want to go through the bother of trying to take over the world again, seeing how well it worked out last time."

"You're insane." Dumbledore said, sounding a bit shocked. The subtext read 'if you think I'm going to believe that, though I think I may, which means you really are out of your mind.'

Harry chuckled. "Yes, he is most definitely insane." Although, Harry had the sudden thought, if they were living in the same skull, that meant they both were, didn't it?

"Ah, you are both wrong. I  _was_  insane." Voldemort corrected dryly.

"I'm pretty sure we had the correct tense the first time." Harry said. Dumbledore shot him a look that, since they were in a mindscape, actually _did_  say 'you're not helping'.

"Well, perhaps." Voldemort allowed magnanimously. "But the main reason I was so unbalanced has been corrected, hasn't it Harry?" Harry just looked at him dubiously. Voldemort sighed.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "You are a broken soul, there is no way that you can be sane." Harry could feel the background to the thought, however. That Dumbledore could not think of them as anything but broken and evil, or else the unease he was suppressing would not let him continue to torment a small boy like Harry, especially after learning that Harry actually saw  _himself_  as a small child. If Dumbledore were to give up control of this one thing, this penance of fighting for good and suppressing evil... the world would be too grey, and his own actions as a young man selfish and full of dreams would have to be addressed by the old man he had become. This Dumbledore had killed his best friend, but had not had a second adversary to burn though his beliefs and purify them, solidify and smelt them down into a hard but well intentioned morality. No, here, it was left to run in the background behind even the jealousy of seeing others changing the world for the better in ways that had never been dreamed of before, an emotion that was itself quite buried.

Harry just stared at the red haired headmaster. Voldemort glanced at his equal before turning back to Dumbledore. "Your tenses are still off, though perhaps the time travel can be blamed for that." Voldemort smiled charismatically. "In fact, my soul was put back together by young Harry here, a service I much appreciate. Splitting one's soul necessitates insanity. I lost some very important things to that diary. Which I didn't notice, of course, until I had them back. It really is a wonder that I was functional enough for people to consider following my commands, though the magics I worked on them perhaps made it difficult to rebel." He smiled somewhat sadly. "It is especially painful seeing what I could have become. Your Tom has so much power, followers that are not sycophantic idiots, a most excellent wardrobe and as many young minds to corrupt as he sees fit."

"You're sick." Dumbledore snarled, though his hate was much lessened and the subtext only seemed tired.

"Yes, well, it takes a while to heal, I suppose. And what is normal, anyway?" Voldemort mused.

"Probably not having discussions with someone inside their heads with the other soul you are linked to as backup." Harry supplied helpfully.

"Hm." Voldemort considered.

"What do you want?" Dumbledore said, aging in front of their eyes as the grounds became covered in a cold and damp mist. 'I can do nothing to stop them.' Dumbledore's thoughts said, though the depressed landscape made that pretty obvious.

"I want to have a muffin." Harry huffed, annoyed that the conversation (and really, the whole battle) had been usurped by Voldemort, especially because he wasn't feeling as terrified at the thought as he felt he should.

"I want to make scathing comments, mercilessly antagonize my soul-reconstructing enemy for defeating me, and eventually convince him to help me take over the world. Once it seems like a good idea. Like, say, in another couple hundred years or so." Voldemort said, looking at Harry even though he was theoretically answering Dumbledore's question.

"You mean when we look thirteen?" Harry rolled his eyes. As much as Voldemort was a sadistic megalomaniac, his stubborn persistence was getting past scary, straight through annoying, and now was ending up somewhat funny.

"What do  _you_  want?" Voldemort asked Dumbledore, turning the question back at the now ancient looking wizard.

Who looked somewhat stunned to be asked, and then angry. Harry didn't need a psychic connection to realize the Headmaster thought they were trying to bribe him.

"No, really." Harry protested. "We're both at a loss as to what to do to appease you. He's never bothered to get on your good side and I'm used to..."

"Being your alternate self's pawn." Voldemort interrupted. Harry glared at him.

Dumbledore regarded the two of them warily, a thought unfurling in his mind.

"We're not going to kill you!" Harry protested hotly.

"Well..." Voldemort looked contemplative.

"Are you kidding? That would cause all sorts of problems. We might as well commit suicide or sleep in a cave for a few centuries if we did that. There's no way to reverse that kind of publicity." Harry had a lot of experience with the fickle nature of public opinion, but some things were unforgivable.

Voldemort just gave Harry a darkly amused look. Harry wondered what, exactly, Voldemort thought he had just won. But Dumbledore was looking at him strangely as well...

Feeling the older wizard's thoughts Harry jumped, then cursed. "And of course, it's wrong." He added with a bemused smile.

Voldemort's smile had entirely too many teeth, and his eyes were starting to glow.

Harry sighed. "Well, as I see it, this can go two ways. We can be the enemy you seem to need through some mental illness, or you're going to go off the deep end and people will turn against you." Harry said with a shrug. "And seeing as we look like a little boy and one of your good friends is already against you, the chances of the second happening are pretty high."

"Unless you push us out of sanity." Voldemort added coolly. "Which, admittedly might happen. And is what you were trying to have happen."

"Which would basically be  _forcing_  us to be evil when we really don't want to be." Harry continued. "Which you have done to us already." Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he thought over what he had just said. "Rather, you  _almost_  did it to me, and you had a big hand in helping Voldie."

Albus looked torn, and the emotions rolling off of him were too chaotic for words to form. "All the assurances and jokes you could make now mean nothing to me. You have murdered in cold blood."

There wasn't really anything to be said to that. The three starred at each other.

"So that's it? No forgiveness? We die and end up in another world, screwed over by fate to be with each other for eternity until we figure something out, and you, who even when we feared you we respected your morals- you will not give us an inch of slack?" Harry was so frustrated he almost couldn't finish his sentence. "What, only you get a second chance? What makes you so special!?" A small part of Harry knew he was being unreasonable, but most of him was seeing red. "Argh! We can't win! Of course not, that wouldn't be amusing enough." He snarled, stomping his foot childishly. To the shock of all the current occupants of Dumbledore's mind, a crack started snaking away from where the small foot had slammed down. "Oh crap."

The faux Hogwarts was crumbling an breaking up like a bad Muggle action film. Harry and Voldemort grabbed onto each others arms as they fell through the world.

OooOOoo

Harry opened his eyes and saw the sky. He blinked and sat up. He was back in the garden, Myrtle was fluttering behind the Mediwizard who had been, presumedly, running diagnostic scans on Harry as his wand was out.

"Harry, what happened?" Tom asked.

A stabbing pain shot through Harry, like his scar used to. His eyes widened and he looked inside. The basilisk was gone! He started to hyperventilate- had Voldemort been left in Dumbledore?

/:Relax.:/ Voldemort's mental voice was utterly blank, but even so, it set up a storm of emotions in Harry- disappointment, relief, fear... /:You really are such a thorn in my side.:/ Voldemort sighed in their mind. /:But I'm going to return the favor. You can't get rid of me that easily.:/

Harry took deep gulping breaths and tried to relax. The reason the basilisk was gone was that Voldemort now looked like he had in Dumbledore's mind. "I have a headache." Harry chose to state the obvious rather than get into any of the reasons that might be.

"What did he do to you?" Tom asked, his eyes flashing in anger.

"Nothing. He didn't do anything." Harry muttered, putting his head between his knees and breathing to try to get the shooting pains to die down. Harry squinted from between his knees and saw that Dumbledore was on the ground and not moving. Harry would have been concerned, if he could think at all through the pain.

/:If we want to prevent a bloodbath, I think we need to discuss some things with our minions.:/ Voldemort hissed from a corner of Harry's mind, words clipped like he was in pain as well.

"What are you talking about you fool?" Harry grumbled to himself. Voldemort moved their head up and pointed with one of their arms at the bushes at the edge of the garden. Glowing yellow eyes shone from the bushes, at the height of a man, and at the height of a wolf. Harry's headache kept him from realizing what that meant until the people who were watching his arm move looked to the foliage as well.

"Werewolves!" Someone screamed. The aurors (woke up and) spun to face the new threat.

"Can't I ever catch a break!" Harry whined, feeling very petulant.

OoOoOooOOOo

"Where am I?" Dumbledore asked himself, turning and surveying his surroundings. "King's Cross Station?" He identified with some shock.

"It has worked well in the... past..." There was a lengthy pause, in which Dumbledore was able to round on the speaker. Who looked an awful lot like himself. The other Dumbledore had the constipated look to his face of a man caught trying to describe a temporal paradox.

"What kind of trick is this?" The first Dumbledore asked of the newcomer. "Show your real form!"

The second Dumbledore looked amused. "My dear boy, this is my 'real form'." His eyes started to twinkle merrily.

"Don't call me 'boy'." The first Dumbledore was confused, and on top of his unfulfilling encounter for Harry an Voldemort just previously, he was really pissed off.

"Ah. But I have a few decades of experience on you my boy." The second Dumbledore twinkled.

The first Dumbledore gasped as pain lanced through his head. He grasped it with his hands and fell to his knees.

"Oh my, it does seem that the experience has been quite traumatic for you."

"Or if you really are me, we could be having a reaction like Tom has to Harry." Dumbledore grunted out, looking at his other through a eye barely cracked open.

"A possibility." The other mused. "But in this case, we are in the after-world, so soul conflicts shouldn't have much of an affect."

"What!? They killed me?" Dumbledore tried to jump to his feet, but was so disoriented that he stumbled forward and would have fallen on his face if the other hadn't caught him and lowered him to the ground.

"Well, not dead, exactly." The other Dumbledore replied. "Mostly, perhaps."

"Mostly?"

"You can go back, and it would actually be harder for you to fully die than to return to your body. But at the moment you are... displaced. It is apparently is what happens when you drive a volatile young man to unreasoning anger inside your mind after already making a former Dark Lord connected to said young man through Horacruxes annoyed enough to want to kill you." The second Dumbledore replied. "Lemondrop?" He offered a tin to his younger self.

"Yes, thank you." the first Dumbledore said gratefully. He popped it in his mouth and let the wonderful magic of candy (something even the Muggles could get right) work on his headache. Soon the pain had dissipated enough that he could sit upright and think properly. He noted that the other Dumbledore had conjured a set of tea and a table. He sat down and accepted a cup- prepared just as he liked it. "Thank you again." He sipped the tea and sighed happily. The tea was heavenly. Perhaps appropriately so.

"So there is a reason that we're here talking."

"Of course." The younger Dumbledore was convinced that his older self was not lying to him. There was a sense of enlightenment in the air that was opening his mind in ways that he was sure would not continue once he had woken up into his body. Something to look forward to in the afterlife, he supposed.

"Harry was sent to your world though an accident, but he is not without... cosmic protections." The older Dumbledore said, taking a sip of his beverage. "The powers that be decided not to make their wishes known through a prophecy, as both of those two have had... issues with prophecies in the past. They would be likely to do something rash."

"I can't imagine why you would think that." The younger Dumbledore murmured around his cup of tea.

The older Dumbledore chuckled. "Quite right." He sobered. "Now, forcing them to face you like that has made the relationship between them extremely volatile. They were progressing orderly to a symbiosis, or possibly even combining entirely, which would have rendered them an extremely powerful and long-lived, but no longer immortal individual. Now, however, you broke them out of that while at the same time allowing them to learn to cooperate as individuals. And there is once again a danger that Voldemort will become a dominant personality, not just a subset of Harry's."

The younger Dumbledore could see that this was true, needing no further explanation in the crossroad world were the air flowed with information. He started cursing.

"Now, now, my boy. True you have possibly created the thing you thought you were fighting to begin with, but that's a tendency we both have." The older Dumbledore said cheerfully. "I have the utmost faith in young Harry. He will figure something out. And with some prompting, Voldemort can probably make the most of the second chance that he doesn't necessarily deserve."

The younger Dumbledore sipped his tea and eyed the other skeptically.


	17. Prank Back

"Ok, so I guess I have to admit that I lied." Harry said into the tense stand-off between the werewolves and the Aurors. "I have been talking with some non-humans."

"No shit." Growled one of the Aurors, not taking eyes nor wand from being trained on the closest wolf.

"But I swear I don't know why they claim I'm their alpha." Harry continued, ignoring the Auror.

"If I might answer that question?" Harry turned to look at the rather average sized werewolf that had spoken. The man had an intense look in his eye as he regarded Harry and ignored the magical might brought to bear on him. He was shaggy, but not in a worn down way like Remus had had as a werewolf, more like a wild animal with its hackles half raised.

"Speak." One of the officials said, but the wolf did not move until Harry shrugged is agreement.

"He is our Alpha as he has upheld the laws of our people and held himself honorably." The werewolf explained, his gaze starting to freak Harry out a little bit with its intensity. Not because of a sense of intimidation- Voldemort made this pup look like a lovesick teen. No, because of the... admiration? A weird emotion in the gaze that neither Harry nor Voldemort (when consulted) could identify.

"I just kicked the crap out of a couple of you and killed those that were going to cause trouble." Harry protested.

"Exactly." The werewolf looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"What?" Harry was lost.

"The first rule of the werewolves is that we cannot discuss it with outsiders." The werewolf looked wry. "Which causes issues, of course, but there would be more if our enemies knew how to manipulate us." He looked pointedly at the Aurors and Ministry officials.

/:Isn't that annoying?:/ Voldemort commented, looking out the left eye at the werewolves. /:They won't explain it while all these people are here, and the Ministry won't leave before they hear it.:/

"Harry O'Donnell, we have to put you under arrest for consorting with non-humans." Minister Bagnold said slowly, watching as about a third of the werewolves shot her hostile glares.

"Yeah, ok." Harry said sarcastically. "Because you think you can take me in if I don't want to after I put the strongest wizard in the world into a coma." Bagnold gave him an uncertain look and Harry had to take a bit of pity on her- she was rather young to be in office, after all. "Can I just have a chat with the werewolves for a bit without anyone trying to kill anyone else?" All the magical humans looked positively scandalized, Myrtle let out a distressed 'eep' and Tom made grumbling disgruntled noises. The werewolves watched Harry, some gazes shifting around the garden before snapping right back.

Harry flopped onto his back and groaned to the sky before sitting back up with a determined look on his face. "Look, you're just going to have to trust me for a second, ok? Unless you want this to get physical. Er... magical?" Harry hook his head. "Whatever. I just want to get this settled before the muffins get cold." He eyed Myrtle's tray longingly.

The tensness in the air was thick enough to cut with a cutting hex. Harry stood, grumbling when the motion renewed his headache, and started toward the invisible battleline. /Voldie- can you set up some sort of ward around the werewolves and us?/ Harry asked absently as he worked on walking in as non-threatening manner as possible to the non-humans. Harry felt a splash of shock from the other soul like cold water before the first threads of a ward began to separate the garden into two sections.

Just before slipping into the area that was now almost another dimension due to the power and archaic nature of the spells, Harry turned around and looked at the assembled people. He threw a reassuring smile at his adoptive parents before announcing, "I'm not ashamed of associating with non-humans who are as intelligent or more so than a human. You all should be ashamed instead of your prejudices. I am going to work out some things with these werewolves. When I come out, I expect you all to have come to a consensus on a truce that you would consider workable between the two of us." He ruined the seriousness of his speech by snickering at the end. "And if being told off like you're little kids by a seven year old doesn't make you ashamed of yourselves, I give up." Harry waved goodby and slipped into the wards despite the protests of the others.

"Man... being superpowerful and immortal is such a pain in the ass!" Harry complained.

/:I agree.:/

"You do?" Harry shouted out loud in his shock.

/:Absolutely. If you are trying to treat the others as equals it is totally untenable.:/

A sharp laugh was startled out of Harry. /Point again, Voldie. I think I need to start quipping back or you'll win the game./

/:What game?:/ Voldemort seemed genuinely confused, so Harry left him to look through their shared thoughts and figure it out on his own while he turned to address the werewolves.

"Ok, so what are these rules then? And why is killing you guys somehow making me eligible to be your Alpha." Harry held up a hand just as the spokes-wolf was about to talk. "Wait- first, what's your name?"

The wolf looked extremely pleased to be asked, his eyes turning a lumescent gold and his hair smoothing out. "Vilkatas."

"Ok, Vilkatas... now why am I the Alpha?"

"Well, quite simply, you killed our last one." Vilkatas started.

"Fenrir?"

"Yes."

"Ok, that makes sense. Except that I'm not a werewolf." Harry pointed out. Reasonably, he thought.

"True, but you killed him with your bare hands and even ritualistically pulled his heart from his body. Which is how you released all his unwilling victims from the brotherhood. Such instincts are so..." Vilkatas' eyes were taking on the shine that had Harry and Voldemort both extremely uncomfortable. Even as an insane snake-like Dark Lord there had still been fanboys.

"Ok, snap out of it, you're too old to be looking at me like that." Harry and Voldemort both growled at him.

"Yes, my Alpha!" Vilkatas gasped, crouching down and tilting his head back. The other werewolves looked at Harry with respect and wariness.

"Argh, no grovelling!" Vilkatas winced. Harry rolled his eyes. "Just keep explaining, alright?"

"Yes, my Alpha." Vilkatas straightened slightly, but not fully to the proud stance he had had previously. He coughed nervously. "You killed the previous Alpha in a very traditional way... even if you didn't know it," he continued when Harry's eye started to twitch, "so you were the interim-Alpha. If you did not confirm your claim then we would have found another to take the place."

"I didn't confirm being Alpha!" Harry protested.

"Ah... you did."

"How?" Harry asked. "Oh no..." He groaned in realization. "Something about beating the crap out of you all..."

"And killing those who were going against your will, yes." Vilkatas confirmed. "We werewolves came to see what you were going to do, especially as you are a non-werewolf. You laid down the rules to the first comers, and then enforced the 'no-killing' rules with lethal force." Harry winced at the irony. "And not once did you use magic. You fought us as we would have fought for dominance ourselves- physically, to submission, lethal if necessary. Even in the  _same form_  as we were in." Vilkatas was getting that fan-boy look in his eye again, but Harry was in no position to notice.

Harry grabbed his suddenly even more painful head and groaned. "Oh  _bollocks_!"

/:Only you could  _accidentally_  police a race of supernatural beings.:/ Voldemort commented, somewhere between laughing and in shock.

"We haven't had such good leadership in such a long time." Came a female voice from beside Vilkatas. "And since you are human, we are so hoping you can help us with the human problem, and give us a place in the world."

/:I take it back. You've become the  _werewolf messiah!_ :/

/ **We**  have become the werewolf messiah./ Harry shot back silently, Voldemort's entire soul shuddered in revulsion. It was almost enough to make Harry smirk, except for the killer headache and the fact that he was in the same position.

"And you are?"

"Ilimu, Alpha." The dark-skinned, exotically dangerous looking werewolf replied. "I would be honored to serve as your Alpha mate." She cooed.

"What!?" Harry squeaked.

"No, he spoke to me first!" Vilkatas protested hotly.

"WHAT!?" Harry exclaimed even louder, though he was ignored as the two werewolves squared off and started to circle each other.

"You're a male!" Ilimu protested.

"So?"

"When a bitch and a dog love each other very much..." Ilimu started, sneering.

"Hey, both of you, stop that right now!" Harry snapped at them, causing both to flinch and crouch in front of him, whining slightly. Harry ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, making it stick up in all directions. "I'm..." he trailed off as he wasn't exactly sure how old he was. "I'm a little kid! I'm not going to have a mate! I'm not going to hit puberty for..." and he trailed off again at the depressingly long time it would be until he did, and then almost cried when he realized how long it would  _last_.

"It's a political position as much as a sexual one, Alpha." Vilkatas explained eagerly. "We could fight for it, of course, but your preferences are very important as well."

"Which means, of course, that you want someone who  _will_  be sexually attractive once you are ready for that." Ilimu added, sneaking a glare at Vilkatas before snapping her gaze back to Harry.

"I..." Harry sputtered. He was sort of used to being the object of desire due to his fame, but this was like a whole other level. "I don't want a harem!" He finally protested. The very idea was horrifying. He knew what girls did when they got into groups and it was positively terrifying.

"Oh, no- you only have one mate of course." Both werewolves assured him.

"I don't want a mate at all." Harry grumbled. Besides not having the hormonal drive at the moment, he had never been that interested in all the people who had tried to get with him for his fame. These damn wolves weren't any better. They were reminding him of a giant canine "Harry Potter Fan Club" with Vilkatas as Colin Creevy.

"Won't you need someone to tell you about the werewolves, where they are, what you are ruler of, what the traditions are?" Vilkatas asked persuasively.

Harry could see that trap from a mile away and didn't answer.

"And won't you need someone to take care of things in your absence and help to uphold your decisions while you are negotiating the treaty with the humans?" Ilimu continued.

The other wolves were all watching the speaker and then flicking their gaze back to Harry.

"You're assuming I want to be your Alpha." Harry crossed his arms over his chest. The reaction was immediate. All the werewolves looked so dejected- the ones in human forms practically fell to the ground and water welled in their eyes, the ones in wolf form had their tails tucked up between their legs and their ears at a pathetic angle. He felt like he had just drop-kicked a puppy, plus Voldemort was affronted at him throwing away such a source of power. "Bloody hell! Surely a werewolf would be a better leader?"

The denials were so overwhelming that Harry had to bring his arms up to physically ward off the overreacting werewolves.

"Ok, ok! I'll stay your Alpha if you are so adamant." Harry gasped out. "Not that I have anything pressing I need to do for the foreseeable future." He muttered. Harry had never been able to say no to a fan that was genuinely happy to see him. He cursed the damn Dursleys and their neglect for making him such a sucker for positive attention in small enough doses. "And besides, 'if the universe plays a prank on you, you play a prank on the world.'"

/:I think that saying is a bit different than what you quoted...:/ Voldemort mused. /:But I heartily approve of your logic. We shall rule this world yet!:/

Harry ignored the other soul and turned back to the two werewolves. "And why don't you both be my... assistants for now." Harry refused to call them mates, since they weren't. But they did have a point that he would need help if he was going to take this nonsense up as a twisted sort of hobby. The two wolves both looked at him, scandalized. "I shall need one of you with me, and one in the field." Harry explained reasonably. "One last question, though- why are some of you in wolf form? It's not the full moon." Harry asked in puzzlement.

"Those are the werewolves that started off as wolves, of course. Vilkatas replied.

"Er... what?" Harry was confused.

"Some werewolves were born that way, some were wolves originally, some human." Vilkatas explained unhelpfully.

"Er..." Harry continued to stare at Vilkatas unintelligently. He was pretty sure that the Monster Book of Monsters had said that all werewolves were infected people.

"That's another werewolf secret, of course, though not really much of one. We don't talk about it, but we don't hide it, either." Vilkatas shrugged. "The humans always ignore that we have brothers with us in wolf form more often than not."

"Hmm." Harry couldn't say he didn't agree with that. Everyone had that sort of tendency...

/:Though not us, of course.:/

Harry couldn't tell if Voldemort was being sarcastic or not. He leaned toward the other soul, but Voldemort crossed his arms over his chest defensively so Harry backed off, confused. "Well... um... do they turn into humans on the full moon then?"

"Yes, Alpha." Ilimu replied.

"Huh." Harry felt his curiosity perk up. "You're going to have to tell me about this more, I think, but maybe not when the Ministry is thinking we're plotting their demise in here." He turned around and realized that he had no idea what the shimmering veil behind him was. It looked like a variation on Protego, that is, from the same warding family, which meant it wasn't linked to a physical object... /Ah... Voldemort?/

/:Yes?:/

/This is sort of beyond my skill level to take down./ Harry was a bit worried that he hadn't even noticed that Voldemort had cast something so impressive through his body. Was the other soul taking over or... the other option seemed ridiculous... but them, maybe that was why Voldemort had seemed so shocked? Harry couldn't have... trust him, had he?

/:Hm.:/ Voldemort made a noncommittal sound but took down the ward without argument. Harry tried to pay attention to what the counter-ward was, but without knowing what it was countering, it didn't make much sense. /:I am no one's servant.:/ Voldemort's mental voice was almost undetectable. If Harry hadn't been paying such close attention to what the other soul was doing he probable would have missed it.

Harry felt a quick flash of relief- yes, that is what he had been doing- exploiting his prisoner. /Well, then I suppose you will have to teach me the spells so I can cast them, then./ He relied jauntily.

Voldemort hissed at him in half-hearted annoyance. He seemed almost distracted- maybe because of the casting? Harry shrugged and stepped over the former barrier.

OooOooooOOOO

Dumbledore's chest heaved upwards as his eyes opened. He blinked at the serene sky above him and he wondered what exactly had just happened. He had plenty of experience with the mental arts and the various worlds and metaphors that could result from them, but he was pretty damn sure he had just been in some sort of alternate dimension, not just a mental landscape. Which, now that he was not surrounded by the peace and knowledge of the... afterlife... meant that he had almost died. He hadn't faced the prospect of his own death since fighting Grindewald, and he was briefly jealous of his other self who had not only faced actually died, but had a situation where he could resolve these issues more slowly while dealing with another Dark Lord, rather than while half-passed out on the ground after mentally attacking a young child.

"Albus?"

Dumbledore looked up at Tom, vaguely surprised at the concern on the other man's face. They hadn't been seeing eye to eye for the past year or so. "Yes?"

"Oh thank Merlin!" Tom dropped to his knees beside the older wizard. "I'm so glad you're awake! Uh... how many fingers am I holding up?" Tom asked, holding up a thumb.

"Very funny, Tom." Albus said dryly, though he appreciated the attempt at humor, especially when the MediWizards and Witches pushed his estranged friend to the side and started doing actual diagnostics on him. He shooed them away, pretty sure he was fine, and if not, not going to benefit from their help as they were none of them MindHealers. "I'm fine, thank you. All that running around was just too much for an old man." He demurred, standing up gingerly when he discovered he ha a rather impressive headache. Otherwise, however, he felt just fine.

"Albus..." Tom had a shifty look on his face that Albus knew meant he was analyzing the situation and wasn't yet sure how he wanted to respond.

"Tom, before you decide you're still not speaking with me, let me just say that I was... overzealous in my dealing with young Harry." Albus cut him off.

"Oh, really?" Not Tom's face was both more closed off and more hopeful, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop or the trap to be sprung. "What has inspired this change of heart?"

"I'll tell you later, after the situation is more under control." Dumbledore looked around and noted the Aurors crawling all over a ward that he thought looked somewhat like an ancient Proteus anguinus. He stroked his beard before grimacing at the somewhat slimy texture... damn that boy ad his transfiguring skills, anyway. "So, Tom, what exactly is the situation, then?"

"Harry locked himself up with all the werewolves to discuss his role as their leader." Tom replied, his face a totally blank mask as he awaited Dumbledore's reaction.

"Well, he certainly doesn't seem to know how to do things half-way." Dumbledore murmured, shaking his head in wonderment. "He cast the ward, then?"

"Yes." Tom's voice was clipped, but his face was looking faintly hopeful when Albus hadn't reacted negatively to the description.

"Hmm." Dumbledore looked at his friend and came to a decision. "I might be able to take it down, but let's give Harry the benefit of the doubt."

Tom's face finally opened with a smile. "Thank you, Albus."

"For now, anyway, young Harry  _is_  in with werewolves, after all."

Tom's face clouded with worry, as did Myrtle's beside him. "Yes." Tom muttered. "Though the werewolves claimed that Harry had defeated and even killed some of their number."

Dumbledore found himself shocked, though he really didn't see why he should be at this point. "I see."

"Even so, he's a little boy, he shouldn't have to deal with all this political nonsense." Myrtle sniffed.

"Dear, it's not nonsense, the non-humans are causing all sorts of turmoil over their rights and with the more radical members of their species attacking wizarding institutions."

"I know  _that_ , Tom." Myrtle snapped. "But so far as a child is concerned, it should be nonsense for us grown ups to deal with. And besides, you heard what he said- we are using the same arguments agains non-human rights that the Purebloods use against Muggles and to justify the horrible things they do to their children."

"But Muggles are still human, the non-humans are, well, not. It is a different situation entirely." Tom protested.

"How is it different? They can speak and reason just the same as can humans." Myrtle retorted.

Albus cut in before the pair that could really get going. He recognized from the quirk of Myrtle's eyebrow and the twitching of Tom's jaw that they were settling in for a good long debate. And seeing how worried the two of them were, it could become truly epic. No matter what either of them actually believed, they would argue the two sides they had picked fiercely. "What did Harry say about the issue?"

"What?" They both blinked and turned to the Headmaster.

"You mentioned that Harry said something about the non-human issue." Albus prompted.

"Oh, before he went into the ward with the werewolves he said that we all should be ashamed of ourselves for treating non-humans like animals." Tom said offhandedly, making Dumbledore smile a bit at how easily he abandoned the stance he had taken against Myrtle now that the wind up had been broken. It seemed from his phrasing that he agreed with his wife, which the Headmaster was not shocked to learn, considering the man's history.

"I assume the Ministry took that well." Albus said, the twinkle in his eye only slightly dimmed from the headache shooting through his head.

"Yeah." Tom scoffed, turning with worried eyes toward the shimmering ward.

"Myrtle- they got a bit burnt." The three adults turned to look at the young Jeff standing holding a tray of muffins, somewhat blackened at the tops.

"Oh, Jeff, thank you dear." Myrtle said, accepting the tray from him. "I did neglect them, didn't I?"

"Is Harry in there?" Jeff asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Yes, he is." Tom said gently.

Jeff looked at the barrier with a frown. "He's so..." The young boy didn't finish the sentence, just looked even more worried, his frown deepening.

"We'll figure this out, Jeff." Tom said softly.

Jeff just shook his head.

They all stood watching the shimmer before it delicately folded in on itself and retracted back into a small figure standing on the other side. Harry was backed by two of the werewolves. The rest turned and left casually as the barrier came down, ignoring the Aurors' commands.

"Harry!" Tom, Myrtle and Jeff cried, running forward toward him, closing the distance quickly.

Harry's eyes widened and he cried out sharply, startling everyone. "Myrtle, watch the muffins!" He said, gesturing with his hand and levitating the two batches that had almost fallen to the ground in the mad dash.

"Harry, at a time like this you're worried about muffins?" Myrtle asked incredulously, hugging Harry tight to her and sobbing.

"Myr- _tle!"_ Harry whined, still holding the muffins up with his magic. Wandlessly and wordlessly, everyone noted.

"Don't you whine at me young man! You're supposed to let us take care of you, not the other way around."

"I can take care of myself." Harry huffed as he escaped her grasp and snagged a muffin. "Oh, hey Jeff! Did you come with Tom?" Harry asked in between bites of muffin and moans of delight.

"I did..." Jeff said quietly.

"Harry O'Donnell!" Myrtle gasped, scandalized. "You are most certainly not able to take care of yourself."

The werewolves beside Harry stiffened at that statement.

"Well, fine... maybe I could just take some OWLs or something and then I can?" Harry asked absently, starting on a second muffin and handing one each to the bemused werewolves.

"You cannot take those tests until your magical core is finished growing, otherwise it might..." Dumbledore trailed off from his explanation.

"You mean it might get  _bigger_?" Since Dumbledore had vowed to follow his other self's advice, at least for a while, he could see that the boy seemed more horrified at the thought than pleased.

"Well... maybe." Dumbledore said dubiously. If the boy's magical core got any bigger, he wasn't sure the physical body could handle it.

"Huh." Harry mused, getting that distant look to his eyes that meant that he was talking with the other soul in his head. Albus had to make a conscious effort to not frown in distaste. It was going to take a while to realign his thinking about this situation, but basically being given a prophecy direct from the afterlife... he couldn't ignore something like that.

Dumbledore sighed and snatched one of the muffins out of the air and took a bite. It was, he noted, a sinfully delicious baked good. Very possibly a better reward than winning a duel or being proven right. Which was good, because that was exactly what he hadn't accomplished in the past day. Dumbledore frowned. He could definitely sympathize with anyone that found prophecies annoying. It had been much more satisfying to bring the might of the Ministry down on the confusing enigma that was Harry with righteous anger. But, he mused, looking over at Tom's worried face, it had led to estrangement from one of his best friends.

Dumbledore took another bite from his muffin and pretended it was a lemon drop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two werewolves' names are kinds of shapeshifters/ werewolves from various parts of the world. The ward is named after this worm thing that I found on Wikipedia (because, why not, right?)


	18. Pawn to Checkmate

"Harry."

"Albus."

Weak twinkles sparked in the corners of Dumbledore's eyes, before he turned serious again. "You have convinced me that you are relatively harmless and probably a child..."

"That's generous of you." Harry muttered sarcastically.

"Harry, stop interrupting the man." Tom scolded as he bounced his adoptive son on one knee. "He's trying to apologize." Tom smirked at his mentor.

Albus sighed theatrically. "If you two are done." The other two waved magnanimously. "Thank you. As I said, you have convinced me to let you back into the school. This was, of course, a somewhat traumatic process..."

/:Where we had to drag him kicking and screaming to our point of view.:/ Voldemort commented, but fortunately, only Harry could hear him. Though the two adults could probably guess some of the content from Harry's snort of amusement and rolling eyes.

Dumbledore ignored him. "It is a process which hopefully the rest of the board will not be subjected to, thus they still have heavy reservations about allowing you back to class."

"But..." Harry started to protest, feeling two hopes die in his chest.

Albus raised one hand in the air, forestalling further comment. "In light of what you have been getting up to recently, they are willing to give it a shot."

Harry grinned, showing his canines like his werewolf friends had taught him. It worked extremely well on the Ministry officials. Especially coming from a child, though most seemed to be becoming immune to that creepiness. Harry wondered sometimes if that would lessen their enjoyment of horror movies in the future, but probably the wizards would not have watched Muggle movies anyway. He tried not to think about it, like he tried not to think about all the other things that he could (or likely should) feel guilty about. It made for a much more peaceful mindscape. Especially consiering the new form of his parasi... Harry felt a flicker of protest... his cohabitant.

"They didn't appreciate our generous offers for modeling for the new fountain?" Harry asked innocently.

"It was certainly a generous offer..." Albus began.

"Harry." Tom sighed. "Let him get to the 'but'."

Harry giggled. "What sort of 'butt'?" He asked, grinning in a less creepy, more mischievous way.

The Headmaster ignored him again. "So to appease everyone, you will be living in Tom's quarters." Dumbledore finished, rather more quickly than usual in order to get it out.

"Woohoo!" Harry jumped off Tom's lap and started jumping about the room.

/:You're not even trying to be dignified anymore.:/ Voldemort sighed.

/Why should I?/

/:So they don't think we are completely immature?:/ Voldemort offered.

/All the better to take over the world, my dear./ Harry replied smugly. He jumped extra high in the air when he felt the surprised delight from the other soul. And then again when the delight turned into a wary caution.

"Harry." Tom groaned, obviously regretting that he had already agreed to this idea.

"This is great." Harry grinned. "I really want to go to school." He stopped and blinked. "Did I really just say that?"

/:Yes.:/

"I'll be damned." Harry smiled sadly, stilling his romp. Of course he was...

/: I see your plan, now.:/ Voldemort mused. /: Bipolar disorder will make people constantly wary in our presence, thus keeping us from world domination...:/

Harry smacked the other soul lightly. It didn't hurt either of them, both because Harry had given up on being masochistic for no real gain in that regard and because he was somewhat relieved. Disturbed... but relieved. It was becoming a fairly common feeling.

"Tom has told me that you have been reading and are caught up. Therefore you will stay with your original class and House, and will therefore be a third year Slytherin." Dumbledore said hurriedly into the contemplative silence. "Classes start Monday."

"Thank you Albus." Tom smiled ruefully as he scooped up his adoptive son and backed out of the office. "I'll see you later at the meeting."

OoooooOOOooO

Harry paced in front of the closed door. He was dressed in his school robes, the Slytherin badge affixed and tie (relatively) straight. "Why am I so nervous?" He asked the air.

/:Because you can't just beat them into submission, kill them, or hex them to silence?;/

"I could..." Harry muttered. "But it is probably not a good idea." He smirked at the raised eyebrow from Voldemort. "Yes, I know that means I am falling to the Dark side and that your evil ways are influencing me. But it's sadly true. Killing is easier."

/:Yes!:/

"But we must work on doing what is right, not what is easy." Harry intoned, managing to keep a straight face for ten seconds before the disgust coming from the other soul made him burst out laughing.

/: Are you feeling better?:/ Voldemort asked sarcastically. Mostly.

Harry didn't point out the potential twinge of concern. He had read books on psychology and behavior modification on his forced long vacation. The Dark Lord had read the same books at the same time, so it was by this point something of a complicated game as to who would train whom. It was fun. Sort of. Harry was pretty sure they were both going a bit mad.

"Let's get out there, I guess."

/: Remember to use singular pronouns.:/ Voldemort smirked.

"Right." Harry said, determinately opening the door to Tom's rooms and hurrying down the corridor. Harry's unexpected burst of nerves had served to make them almost late for the Sorting. He ran at slightly faster than normal speeds toward the Great Hall, squeaking into his seat just before the large doors opened to let in the new first years.

"Hey, Harry!" Jeff smiled at his sort-of-brother.

"Hey." Harry smiled back, feeling grateful for the friendly face. Especially considering the glare he was getting from Marfic on the other side of the table. Not because it was a particularly intimidating look, but he wasn't sure what he could say to the boy, and dueling him was probably a bad idea. /It is pretty pathetic that our combined socialization skills are confined to fighting./

Voldemort shrugged, for once tactful enough to not comment. There was nothing he could say that would not soon devolve into a silent argument. The Dark Lord was directly responsible for Harry's problems, though he was not totally responsible for his own. They had both needed to learn a certain amount of tact to avoid chronic debilitating head/soul-aches from fighting with themselves. They could survive it, of course, but having chronic migranes for eternity appealed to neither of them. At least... not now that Harry had given up on being totally self-sacrificial. After all, the gods were  _ literally _  working against him.

"So they finally trapped you back at school, then?" Jeff asked, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

"So it seems." Harry replied wryly, looking at the first years and sighing to see that most of them were actually larger than him. They were about half way done being sorted.

"You could take up you campaigning here." Jeff suggested. "Petitions about rights, protests about unfair treatment..."

"We're not bloody animal lovers." Marfic snapped.

"Not even if you could skip all your classes for the protest?" Jeff asked, leaning forward. "We could do it during the double Transfiguration with the Gryffindors."

Marfic looked surprised. "Do you think that would work?"

"Sure. They can't make us go when we are being politically responsible." Jeff gestured emphatically.

/:Slytherin has been good for him.:/ Voldemort commented in approval.

"Don't be an idiot. Letting us skip classes for non-humans? That would never happen." Marfic argued.

"Ah, but aren't you always bemoaning that the teachers are all soft and have no sense of tradition." Jeff rebutted. "And what could possibly be more soft and progressive than non-human rights?" Harry almost snorted- with a different inflection, this was a good argument to give  _ to _  the progressive members of society.

"Huh." Marfic looked intrigued by the thought.

"Hey, Jeff." Harry whispered. "You want to be one of my speech writers or promotional assistants? You can do summers until you graduate."

"Harry." Jeff whispered back. "I'm not helping you take over the world."

"Not take over! Improve diversity and tolerance!" Harry protested in a fierce, almost Parseltongue whisper.

Jeff gave him a sidelong look that showed the two-souled boy that he was not going to fool his young friend. "Uh huh." He humored Harry. "I'm only arguing for it because Marfic is getting more annoying the longer he has to deal with that crazy cousin of his."

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

"Oh, it's very serious." Jeff nodded.

"Hah bloody hah." Harry drawled.

"And now for a few words before we get to our most excellent feast. Hoola, gittrip, doot." The Headmaster said loudly, causing the golden plates to fill with food.

Being surrounded by teen boys, this caused a minor feeding frenzy. Harry didn't even bother to try to muscle his way through all the others. He pulled out his wand and levitated some choice foods to his plate.

/:You forgot the incantation.:/

Harry cursed silently and muttered  _ Wingardium Leviosa _  to snag some peas.

/:Still showing off. The peas are not in a container. You are having to control several dozen objects at the same time.:/

/You're not helping./ Harry grumbled.

/:Oh. Was I supposed to?:/ Voldemort asked innocently. He did it entirely too well for Harry's piece of mind. It was sometimes not all that surprising that the man had gotten away with becoming a Dark Lord. One would have thought that so soon after toppling the last Dark Lord, the authorities would have been more on the ball about things.

"Well that's that I guess. You want to play some video games before you get locked up with Tom?" Jeff asked Harry once the last crumbs of desert had disappeared in pockets or gullets.

"I don't know..." Harry felt so retro playing the Atari games. Even though he hadn't really played any in the future beyond what he could sneak during summers at the Dursleys.

"They have Duck Hunt." Jeff coaxed, miming shooting the beam gun.

Harry paled, flashes of remembered lights coming in front of his eyes, people screaming by his feet as he cackled.

"Sorry, Harry." Jeff said mournfully. "We could play Pong or something."

"That's ok." Harry tried to sound positive. "I'm holding out for Tetris."

"Harrrrrryyyy!" Jeff pouted.

"Hey, let me have a little bit of fun. Perhaps the only part of being some sort of inter-dimensional time-traveler is pretending to be a mysterious seer from time to time." Harry said haughtily, standing up and striking a noble pose.

"Hah!" Jeff scoffed. "And defeating the most powerful wizard in the world, doing stunts on a broom that make professional Quidditch players green and inciting a political frenzy with your pack of werewolves are what then?"

Harry sniffed and let Voldemort reply. "Practice."

Jeff sighed. "And you can't seem to figure out why I don't want to help you."

Harry chuckled. He skipped a couple steps. "You know what I would like to do?"

Jeff looked afraid to answer that question.

"I want to play chess." Harry said decisively. He had been playing a lot of chess against Voldemort, when they got too bored with reading to do anything else. But it was only slightly better than playing with Ron- he never won. The reminder of his lost friend was a familiar but distant pain by now. It rarely snuck up on him anymore. Especially when Jeff made a face like that.

"Ew, Harry! Why would you want to play  _ chess _  when you could play... well, anything else?"

"I'll play you."

Harry turned around with a blink of surprise. The much taller Marfic Black was standing there, looking sour. "Why do you hate me so much?" Harry asked, curious.

"I don't need a reason. I've disliked you from the second I heard your name and the first time I saw your pathetic face." Marfic replied stubbornly.

Harry had to laugh at that. "Yeah, ok. Let's play."

"No cheating." Marfic grumbled as he pulled out the chess board.

"Cheating?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side innocently.

"I'm only playing one of you." Marfic clarified, looking up at the smaller boy through his frowning eyebrows.

Harry blinked in surprise again. It was rare that someone spoke of him as two separate people. "Ok." He replied, subdued.

"So." Marfic snapped. "Choose!"

"Oh, I am definitely playing you."

Marfic smirked. "If you are too pathetic, then I'll play him, too."

/: ! :/ Voldemort perked up. /: Throw the game! :/

/I'm not throwing the.../ "Ow!" Harry protested as he got smacked. He felt off balance until he realize he had been physically hit. He focused on Marfic, growling and showing his canines.

"I told you I was only playing against one of you." Marfic smirked.

"I was telling him I wasn't going to throw the match!" Harry protested.

"If he wants to play that badly, I will defeat him, too." Marfic shrugged.

/:That little punk!:/

Marfic looked up into Harry's eyes. "But he has to agree to stay quiet the entire match."

Voldemort buried himself deep in Harry subconscious, but Harry could still hear a faint hissing of Parseltongue insults. It made him feel like he had just fainted and was now coming out of it.

"Ok, we agree." Harry said, plucking the white king from Marfic's hands and putting it down on the board. "Let's go!"

OoOooooOOO

Dumbledore waved his hand over the mirror with a sigh, banishing a view of Harry with eyes burning red gleefully massacring the young Black. He was only mildly comforted that the two boys were playing chess and not seriously dueling.

"I did the right thing, didn't I, Fawkes?" He asked his familiar, stroking the feathers and feeling the tingle of heat familiar in his finger tips.

The phoenix let out a soothing thrill.

Albus sighed. He had gotten a little out of hand there for a while. He could see that now. But one of the huge problems with becoming a well known, powerful and respected figure was that people tended to not mention right away when you were getting drunk on power. He smiled ruefully, remembering Tom's admonishments. And sometimes even if they did tell you, it could be rationalized away. "Well, perhaps young Harry and I can be each other's reality checks."

Fawkes made a dubious piping noise.

"Hmm." Dumbledore mused. "You're probably right."

OoOOoOooO

/I'm so bored!/ Harry protested, his soul sitting with crossed legs in the depths of Voldemort's psyche (though not so deep he couldn't regain control if the Dark Lord tried anything./

:No talking.: Voldemort muttered, tapping a finger against the remaining bishop contemplatively.

"What?" Marfic muttered back, forgetting he couldn't understand as he was also concentrating.

:Not you, the nuisance.: Voldemort replied absently, as he took his finger off the bishop and glared at the board. :How best to crush you, mite...:

/Just do it quickly.../ Harry pouted. Voldemort's subconscious was dark and sort of misty. It was quite boring. In fact, his attention couldn't even quite focus on it. Harry narrowed his eyes.  _ Wait a minute... _  He thought privately. That seemed suspiciously like Oclumancy.

Harry focused intently, moving through the mist. Suddenly he was through. The mindscape was still dark, but now it also had a lot of sharp and spiny bits woven together in a rather threatening way. "Hmm." Harry mused. He darted amongst the mesh, smirking when he easily was able to squeeze through. The strands waved a bit, as if to attack, but then settled. The holes were also large enough that his tiny body could fit through easily. Harry vaguely wondered if the defenses were not reacting to him because he and Voldemort had this weird 'thing' or if it was his child-like size.

Harry came across a pool of silvery liquid and grinned. Then frowned. A memory, or a trap of devious nature?

He skirted around the pool cautiously until he ran into an invisible wall. "Curiouser and curiouser." Harry muttered. He felt along the edges until he found something that felt suspiciously like a snake head. "Ouch!" He gasped, pulling back his hand and sucking on his bleeding finger. How did a spectral hand even bleed?

Now the snake head was filling with a brilliant crimson and was waving its head at him.

:What do you want?: it hissed grumpily.

:Uh...:

:Nice. Eloquent.: It sighed. :Too bad you're not dying from the poison.:

:Poison!?:

:And you're not reacting to it.: The snake reminded him, yawning.

:Ok...: Harry muttered.

:Well, what do you want?:

:I guess I want to see Voldemort's deepest, darkest secret so that I can hold it over him like he tends to hold things over me.: Harry mused. :Oh... er... and so I can prevent him from taking over this world.:

"Damn.: The snake grumbled. :And he spoke the truth.:

:So?: Harry asked. Why he should lie to some weird apparition in Voldemort's mindscape he wasn't sure. Voldemort knew basically all of Harry's deep, dark secrets already.

:So that was the password.:

:The password to Voldemort's mind is telling the truth?: Harry asked in disbelief.

:In Parseltongue, after surviving my venom, which is the mental equivalent of basilisk venom.: The snake sighed, before dissolving and revealing a cave of scrolls and books.

:Well, I guess that would work for basically anyone else. But I would have thought he would have updated his defenses since that particular combination was pretty easy to pass for me. Almost... molded just for me...: Harry trailed off, disturbed. Well, he had defeated all of Voldemort's soul bits. So maybe it was just a side effect of that?

"Well, whatever." Harry muttered, moving forward. He looked at the shelves and sighed. Only someone like Hermoine would find the prospect of looking through any of this as anything but a huge chore. "Yet another clever defense." Harry muttered, mentally taking a few notes. Though Harry had no idea how to actually implement this sort of mental defense. Which was sort of the problem with passive Occlumancy. Harry shrugged. Offensive Occlumancy worked just fine for him.

"Let's see..." Harry pulled out the slimmest book he could find. It had been ssquished between two large books labeled 'Torture and You' and 'The Language of Screams'. Harry shook his head that even the titles of Voldemort's books had to be flamboyantly evil before he cracked open the slim book. "This looks sort of like that diar...bloody hell!" Harry cursed as he got sucked into the paper.

OooOOOOoo

Voldemort gasped, his fingers going limp and dropping the queen. She cursed him roundly, but he ignored her.

"What the hell?" Marfic asked. "Well, you won, so..." He looked at the tiny hissing boy and frowned. He looked around, but his dorm mate Jeff wasn't anywhere to be found. "Argh!" He growled. "Play chess with the enemy, get sucked into their madness."

Voldemort was in no shape to hear the muttering of his opponent. He was too busy trying to deal with the feeling of having his soul ripped into pieces. :No...: He gasped weakly, collapsing onto the table. He could feel all the good feelings being pulled from him, all the happiness that he had unexpectedly found in this past year, the compassion he had once found weak pried from his grasping fingers, remorse, grief... :No!: He hissed frantically, even as he began to smirk at the patheticness of even trying to keep hold of those foolish things. :Harry!: He panted in realization.

Voldemort squinted his eyes closed and concentrated with the last bits of his will, fishing for the other soul in the depths of his soul and ignoring the pain as he slammed through his own defenses. He grabbed hold of the familiar energy and pulled it forcibly out of himself and shoved it away.

Voldemort lay gasping on the table, slowly becoming aware of his face being stabbed by tiny chess piece swords and spears.

/Voldemort?/ Came a faint question.

:Why did you do that?: The Dark Lord gasped. :It was bad enough living through it once.:

/I'm sorry./ Harry replied mournfully. Voldemort shuddered when he felt Harry's soul lean on his own. It was comforting, but it was also showing him that Harry had shared the entire experience.

Voldemort sighed unhappily.

/I didn't know.../

:Of course you didn't.: Voldemort scoffed. :That was the point.:

/But that really hurt! And you ended up so.../

:Evil? Sociopathic? Unable to control all my dark impulses and choose good?:

/Uh... that would probably cover it, yes./

Voldemort scoffed and flicked the black king off the board.

/You want to... talk about it?/ Harry asked dubiously.

:No.:

/Alright./ Harry replied with no small measure of relief. /Well, if I ever go crazy enough to actually  _ want _  eternal life, then I shall remember that experience and not make a Horucrux./

:Don't worry. You wouldn't turn into a Dark Lord. You would probably try to expel your negative emotions, not the positive ones. You would end up more like Dumbledore when he's on a "Greater Good" power trip.:

/Merlin's hairy balls!/ Harry gasped in horror.

Voldemort snorted, his lip twitching up a bit. :Don't open any more of my memories without me.:

/Does that mean that you will open them and show me?/ Harry asked in surprise.

Voldemort frowned. :No.:

/Hmm... that book labeled 'People I Love' looked interesting. Maybe we should revisit your teen flings?/

Voldemort could feel their heart racing. :If you tried to split the evil from your soul, you would exorcise yourself.: He grumbled.

/Ha!/ Harry scoffed. /Says the one whose best part still tried to kill a young girl./

Voldemort cursed being in a physical body as his cheeks heated up.

/What?! You pedophile! She was eleven!/

Voldemort pushed Harry back into control of the body and slunk deep into their mind.

/Don't ignore me, you wanker!/ Harry tried to dig the Dark Lord up, laughing.

 


	19. So Long and Thanks For All the Fish

It was both harder and easier than Harry expected to re-integrate back into the school. Sure, the kids were asses and the teachers wary of him, but in all, they pretty much ignored him as 'old news'. He had had his fifteen minutes, it seemed, and now the fickle whims of mob mentality had shoved him to the side in favor of who was dating whom.

Harry found it a little bit disconcerting.

"Come on, Harry. Smile! You're back!" Jeff squeaked, his voice breaking on the contraction.

Harry looked up... way up at the rapidly growing teen. "I am glad to be back, but..." He shrugged. Somehow, the idea of going to school always seemed better in a romantic 'I can never have it' way than it did actually trying to sit through classes.

"Don't you like the new History teacher? I think he's fabulous." Jeff smiled happily, making puppy eyes at the rather unassuming man at the front of the classroom.

Harry had to admit that he was impressed. The man had barely enough magic to classify as a wizard rather than a Squib, and consequently seemed to have funneled all his passion into research he could actually do something with- History of Magic.

"And that is why we now use a golden ball and call it a "Snitch" and why it is a crime punishable by time in Azkaban for using a live snitch bird to play the game." Mr. Brock finished his explanation. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, we need to get on with class. If everyone would open their books to page one oh three."

Harry did so, seeing the grim picture of people screaming and running from an explosion as the chapter head. He raised an eyebrow as they ran around, waving their arms, the flames dancing magenta and puce behind them. The chapter was titled: Atlantis.

"This week we will be covering the lost city. It is really fascinating to see what our historical records show versus what the Muggles remember about the subject. They have thought of everything from the city sinking under the sea to it flying off into space. But what actually happened is a very good cautionary tale on the dangers of soul magics." Mr. Brock's eyes flicked up to where Harry was sitting, but he bravely plowed on. "Since it is possible to put multiple souls in one body, it was experimented with in our early days. The benefits and problems are vast- it does lead to more power, which can be both good and bad, and also the two souls may end up in conflict, or one is more dominant, or they merge and become a new person, or the fight costs both their lives."

/: Very interesting.:/ Voldemort muttered.

/I don't see why./ Harry replied, mostly distracted from the conversation. The class was very interesting and Voldemort was giving him a sensation like he was draping himself over Harry's body.

/:I want to know his sources.:/ Voldemort mused.

Harry sighed. Of course he did. /We can ask him after class./

Not like that was unusual. Voldemort had wanted to know more about the Japanese wizards who had learned to walk on water, up walls and on the ceiling; the Egyptian ones that had bound souls into playing cards through ritual sacrifice; and the 'shamanic' contests that came every so often that British wizards ignored but were intensely popular with less disciplined earth witches and hedge wizards.

Class seemed to fly by, and not because they were playing hangman like they used to in history of magic. After learning about Atlantis and getting their reading assignment, it was off to the stables to care for their various creatures, then to the Dark Arts classroom to practice dueling, then over to the greenhouses to plant mandrakes. At least some things didn't change...

"Hey, there, Voldie."

Harry scowled. "Marfic. That is not my name."

"I know it's not, shorty. I want to play another game against your parasite."

Harry growled, while Voldemort steeples his fingers and pretended to be uninterested in the background of his thoughts. "No."

"I've been reading up on strategy- even getting some Muggle books." Marfic sniffed in disdain. "I think I have a new strategy that will definitely beat Voldemort."

Harry snorted, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "You think you can out-chess Voldie? You realize he can beat Dumbledore on occasion, right?"

Marfic's eyes shined. "Absolutely. No one else gives any kind of challenge. I read all these books, but one game with your leech and my game improves much, much more than I could ever learn on my own. Why, I studied the last game we played- even sent it to my father. Still haven't figured out the strategy."

"Right."

"Great!"

"What?" Harry frowned.

"You agreed to play. I'll see you tonight in the multi-House lounge." Marfic grinned cheekily and skipped off to his next class, leaving Harry staring after him with dirty hands.

"I don't think I like that guy." Harry muttered.

/:Nonsense. He's the only one that acknowledges us as separate people. You love him.:/

"You love him, maybe. I always knew you were gay with all that grand-standing, monologuing, and costume design."

/: I am not gay, and I am certainly not attracted to a fourteen year old.:/ Voldemort said indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're right. The Death Eater outfits would have been more stylish if you were..." Harry smirked. "Ouch!" He stumbled as Voldemort kicked him in the shin. "Oh, real mature!"

OoOooOooO

"I really don't want to." Harry said, backing away from the flaming cup.

"You're the obvious choice, Harry!" Jeff protested.

"Yeah, Harry." Marfic sneered.

Harry pointed to the mocking Black. "You are not helping, stay out of this!"

"You will definitely win!" Jeff wheedled.

"That's cheating- I am two people. The Goblet probably won't even let me put my name in. I doubt I qualify." Harry muttered.

"Just think of all the innocents who might lose their lives but won't because you put your name in." Marfic pressed a hand to his chest dramatically.

"Why am I your friend?" Harry asked rhetorically.

/: Can I do it?:/ Voldemort asked.

"Oh, dear, sweet Merlin." Harry went white- visions of staring blank eyes in a graveyard coming to him.

/: I admit that was poor word choice, but he was really superfluous to the ritual...:/

"Oooh. What did he say?" Marfic asked eagerly. "Wait- that's brilliant! You have definitely got to enter as separate people! Hah! I want to see him do the tournament, definitely."

"Over my dead body." Harry said flatly. "Er... let me rephrase..." He frowned.

"Oh, there you are, Harry." Dumbledore twinkled at Harry, making him instantly suspicious. "I was looking for you, if you would follow me to my office?"

OoOOoOoO

"I could use a bit of help, Harry." Voldemort grunted from underneath a manticore paw.

/Not listening./ Harry rolled over in the back of their mind.

"If you would stop sulking! We're not contestants, we are just tasked with decreasing...ooof!" Voldemort protested as they were flung through a shrubbery. "I suppose that worke... ak!" He dodged to the side, barely missing the claws. "Tasked with decreasing casualties!" Voldemort booked it away from the manticore, casting a slow and then a disabling spell on the beast as soon as he was far enough away to cast them without being flung about by swipes of the massive lion paws. Voldemort put his hands on his knees and panted, before beginning to chuckle. Then laugh uproariously. "Never mind sulk all you want. This is damn fun!" He leapt over to the French girl, slung her over his shoulder, and started to run out of the maze. "Save the damsel- check!" He crowed, just as he burst through into the stands. "Here you go." He dumped her on the ground next to the Mediwizard. Then he spun on a tiny heal and darted back in, his young body looking particularly maniacal with red eyes gleaming in a tanned, round face, hair a mess and leaves poking out of it. "Woooo!"

"I am glad my student iz safe, Albuz, but... I am a bit wo-reed about thiz student of yours." The French Madame said dubiously.

Dumbledore rubbed his forehead. "I am not without reservations, myself." He admitted.

"I still tink it a bit unfair that you 'ave two students in the competition..." She continued.

"Well..." Dumbledore said dubiously. "Right."

"Aw, come on then, Marie." Durmstang's Headmaster chuckled. "If anything the lad is making it harder for the Hogwarts Champion. I understand that he has a particular enmity for Mr. DuBrey."

Dumbledore sighed. The dumb boy didn't seem to realize that calling a former dark lord... reincarnated, soul bound dimension traveler or what, a 'retard' was not wise. Then again, he himself had been calling the boy all manner of names. "Mr. Dubrey is strong in magic, but surprisingly bad at politics for a Slytherin." Dumbledore noted. Especially since the Slytherins had been getting personal tutelage from a thousand year old basilisk.

OoOOoOo

Harry scowled down at his Dark Arts OWL miserably.

/: Do you want me to...:/

/Like you know the answers to any of these dumb, basic questions./ Harry snapped back.

/:A fair point.:/ Voldemort allowed. The questions were all for things they had studied it seemed like a lifetime ago. 'What is the source of magic'? Honestly? There were a thousand answers to that question, but seeing the space allowed for it, they were over complicating things.

/The only way this day could possibly get worse is if I were strung up by the legs, made to show everyone my underwear, and repudiated by my lover./ Harry groused.

/: I would never repudiate you, Harry. :/ Voldemort purred/hissed into his consciousness, running a hand against his soul.

Harry started, knocking over his ink well, eyes wide. "Uh... ng..."

/: Unless you lose your charming wit, I suppose. :/ Voldemort allowed, continuing to pet Harry, moving his hand around to tease the places where they somewhat merged into each other.

/Don't.../

/: Don't what? I am trying to help you concentrate.:/ Voldemort cooed. Which sounded odd enough in Parseltongue to snap Harry out of it.

/Well it is NOT helping!/

/: Pity. :/ Voldemort withdrew. /: And I think the answer they are looking for is 'self, emotions, and learning'. Page 5 of the study guide.

Harry gulped, feeling cold... and oddly tingly... but he wrote down the answer and moved on.

OOOOooOo

"I am glad that you can talk to them, Harry. I heard a girl in Hufflepuff snuck one into her ex-boyfriends socks and it paralyzed half his face with a glare and numbed his whole arm when he found it." Jeff gingerly used a hook to transfer a new-hatched baby basilisk from the incubator to an individual cage.

"Don't worry, Jeff." Harry mumbled as he picked a couple up with his bare hands and started to croon at them. "They are too young to even hurt if they bite you. That was last year's clutch." He scritched the head of the baby basilisk and smiled.

"Oh, ok." Jeff rolled his eyes.

"Just think, in ten or twenty years, they could drop a man where he stands." Marfic said cheerfully.

Jeff paled considerably.

"Mama is so powerful that  _ reflections _  of her gaze can send you into an indefinite coma. You need mandrake root to ever come out of it." Marfic continued.

Harry shook his head at their antics before gently placing the babies in their cages. "I think it is good that they were able to find a mate for her, even if he is a tenth of her age. Basilisks are extremely rare these days."

"And that's bad... why?" Jeff asked weakly.

"You want your kids growing up not knowing what a basilisk is?" Marfic asked.

"Um... first of all, I'm never having kids. Secondly, yes, yes I do." Jeff countered.

Harry picked up another baby and scritched it, listening to its happy, nonsensical hissing. "That would be like growing up in a world without dragons. Magic needs the sense of wonder we get from these creatures in order to stay strong. It's up to us to preserve it. Magic doesn't care if it exists or not... we need to protect magic and magical creatures, and work with the other sentient races to ensure its continuation."

"Harry, you're spouting politics again." Marfic smirked.

"Well, the truth's the truth... don't hate me because I have to practice speeches a million times in order to convince a group of stuffy old wizards not to kill me and my followers." Harry huffed.

"I don't hate you for the speeches or the crusading... it's the repeating the speeches in your sleep..." Jeff laughed.

"Yeah, yeah." Harry smirked.

/: You realize you used the 'f' word again. :/ Voldemort pointed out helpfully.

"I did not!" Harry protested.

/: Yes, you did- your 'followers'. :/

"Merlin's balls." Harry grumbled.

"He giving you grief about saying you have followers?" Marfic asked, grinning.

"No." Harry pouted.

"Yes." Jeff laughed. "Oh, Harry."

OOOOoooOOo

"We're finally graduating- can you believe it?" Jeff asked, twirling about in his graduation robes.

"Nope." Harry replied. Sadly, this is the  _ first time _  he's graduated, owing to the war in his last life.

/: In a couple hours, you are going to be grateful. The ceremony goes on forever. I almost killed the speaker... but Hagrid was already in jail at that point, so I didn't have a convenient scape goat. :/

Harry smirked at the comment.

"And just think, shorty- you can almost pass for a first year. If you put on some shoes with thick souls." Marfic laughed.

"One day, I will do something terrible to you and your family." Harry muttered darkly.

"Oh, no doubt." Marfic chuckled. "Here- for in the meantime, though." He handed Harry a vial.

"What's this?" Harry asked curiously.

"We all worked on it, Harry." Jeff smiled. "Severus helped us a lot."

"He did now..." Harry gave it a sniff and almost vomited. Polyjuice. "What did you do to this Polyjuice and why would I want to take it now? We're about to mount the stage for graduation!"

"Let's just say, you will be glad for the charms in the robes." Marfic smirked. "You could always not take it, and be the shortest graduate of Hogwarts since Flitwick. I think you have a centimeter on him."

Harry scowled and took a gulp of the rank potion.

/: This should be interesting. :/ Voldemort commented.

Harry doubled over, the old familiar feel of his body warping coming over him. "Eugh..." Voldemort retreated deeper to avoid the pain before Harry vindictively latched onto him to keep him aware of what was going on.

/: What the... don't make me suffer though it, as well! :/

/This is revenge for all the fondling you've been doing lately./

/: Don't blame me for that- they're your hormones! :/ Voldemort protested, trying to wriggle away.

/ Oh, no you don't!/ Harry rode out the pain, wrapped around Voldemort like his life depended on it.

/: You are a total twat, you know that? :/ Voldemort hissed.

"There, Harry! Look and see!" Jeff grinned, holding up a mirror for Harry.

Staring back at him was... himself. But looking a proper graduating age of eighteen, not barely ten. He looked, perhaps, a little more like Tom than usual... "Did you take Tom's hair as the base?" Harry asked.

"Yup! And threw in some other modifiers. That's a tricky potion, you know? But I think we got it pretty spot on. This is what you will look like grown up. Probably. We combined it with a bunch of people trying to get the look right, and it turned out that James Potter was the best to put in the blend. Weird, huh?"

"Uh... yeah, very odd." Harry winced. "Well it's good to see what I will look like in a few years."

"Try in a few decades." Marfic corrected helpfully.

"Wow... uh... I don't know what to say." Harry blinked. There was something in his eye... it certainly was not a tear.

"Tom was thinking there might be a way to capture it as part of a glamour and age charm and put it on a ring or something. So you won't be totally taken advantage of in the Wizengamont." Jeff smiled eagerly.

/: Anyone who underestimates us because we look like a child will quickly see the error of their ways. I don't see any reason to warn them of their folly. :/

Harry had a similar feeling, so paraphrased for the others. "It's a good idea, Jeff, but by Voldie side definitely wants to let them put their foot in their mouth and eat it."

"I approve." Marfic smirked. "It's times like this I have hopes of you becoming a proper Dark Lord yet."

"We are a Dark Lord already, foolish boy." Voldemort said through Harry's mouth. "We just are being a bit lazy about it is all."

Marfic laughed, while Jeff smiled uncertainly.

"Well, there is certainly something that I have been wanting to do for a long time now." Harry smirked, feeling one eye go red and the other green from the neutral hazel and seeing the two inch away from him.

/: I fully support this effort. :/ Voldemort hissed happily.

"Gotcha!" Harry crowed, looping an arm around each boys' shoulders. "Perfect." He smiled happily. He was just tall enough to get the arms around their shoulders. "I didn't think I would be able to do this until you two were in your eighties. And by that time you probably would have started to shrink."

"Hah hah, Harry." Marfic said, but he looked pleased as well.

"Well, let's get graduated." Harry pulled his two friends towards the stairwell.

OooOooO

"It is good to see you back, Alpha." Vikatas greeted Harry warmly. The werewolf practically vibrated with happiness. If he were in his wolf form, his tail and possibly butt would be wiggling.

"I am glad to be graduated." Harry admitted. "Though it was fun."

"Well, I have been keeping on top of everything while you were away, sir. Today is the final vote on the legislation that we have been pushing so hard."

"What are they calling it now?"

"Uh... the 'dangerous wolf law' is the colloquial name for it, but the actual name is 'Unprovoked Attack Mitigation in Interspecies Conflict'." Vikitas said.

"Well, I am looking forward to the long hours of deliberation that are going to be necessary." Harry sighed.

"Yes, well. Having you here will hopefully allow them to push it through without having to have another postponement."

"Well, it will probably distract them, anyway." Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

/: I could take over. :/ Voldemort offered. /: I love making people tie themselves in knots verbally. :/ He smirked.

"That's probably not a good idea." Harry muttered... though it was tempting.

"What is this kid doing here?"

Harry turned, raising an eyebrow at the approaching official.

"My Alpha has just graduated and will be resuming full duties."

"Graduated what, primary school?"

Vilkitas started to growl low in his throat.

"Williby, what are you doing?" Minister Bones came up to the entrance to the meeting hall. "Oh, hello Alpha O'Donnell." She greeted Harry. "It is good to see you. Maybe we can have a bit of progress now that all the players are here."

Harry nodded and gave Vilkitas a nod to follow him and stop growling at the young idiot. The werewolf snorted and trotted after his Alpha.

The debates raged back and forth and Harry sat back and listened. He was sure that most if not all of them were repeats of previous arguments, but he had only had gotten reports prior to this and been able to attend meetings in summers, on Hogsmeade weekends and on holidays.

"He's not even a werewolf!"

Silence fell abruptly at that statement, and people turned a bit nervously to Harry. No small number of them had seen Penseive memories of his various escapades when he had been on trial.

Harry stood up to address the assembly. "I believe we are trying to determine the repercussions and laws for out-of-control werewolves, not pry into the structure of the werewolf hierarchy. As part of the treaty that was established, the structure of the werewolf society and our internal rules are off limits." He could tell that that was not enough.

/: How about a little demonstration? :/ Voldemort suggested with a smirk.

Harry thought about that, but tried words first. "But simply- anyone who demonstrates sufficient strength and follows the werewolf law can become the Alpha. The werewolves will not tell you what these rules are, of course, and will not tell you how to 'demonstrate strength' either." Harry continued. "I have fulfilled these criteria and I will remain the Alpha until they depose me." He said, not particularly concerned about that eventuality. He enjoys governing the wolves...

"You are a wolf Animagus. How can we recognize you as their leader? You are not a werewolf and you have been accused of many crimes."

"Our Alpha is our Alpha." Vikitas said finally. "He has control of us."

"How? How can you be everywhere on a full moon? How can you guarantee that all werewolves will be away from humans? How!"

"That is what this legislation is for." Harry said in annoyance. "Everyone agrees, werewolf, wizard, that a werewolf that turns someone without permission, they will be ritually killed in order to release all victims."

"Permission! Who would give permission?"

Harry started to growl as well. "There are many reasons to choose the lifestyle, though usually the applicant is non-magical."

"You take in Muggles?"

"A baby wolf Animagus cannot be controlling all the werewolves!"

/: Demonstrate now?:/ Voldemort asked hopefully.

Harry sighed. "Vilkitas, if you would."

"Sir, is that a good idea? They are already quite aroused... they might go from raised hackles to attack at any moment."

"Wouldn't you rather be in werewolf form when that happens?" Harry asks in reply, before leaping into the center, where witnesses are generally called, changing half-way into a wolf. And not the wolf puppy that most people were seemingly expecting. He became a full grown, adult wolf. His red eye stared balefully at them while the green sparkled with mischief.

There were gasps.

Vilkitas hopped into the ring after him, also changing in midair and crouching with his tail tucked between his legs and his ears tucked back. Translation: This is a bad idea.

This time there were gasps filled with pure horror and a few muffled screams.

Harry turned and pinned Vikitas with a stare. Translation: You ready?

Vilkitas wagged his tail slowly to the right and down, his ear flicking hopefully. Translation: Maybe this was enough of a threat display?

Harry barred his teeth and squared his stance before snorting. Translation: Hell no. I am going to have some fun.

Vilkatas' ears drooped and he backed up a step. Translation: Oh, sweet Merlin!

Harry pounced and Vilkitas scrambled to get out of the way, dodging and yelping. He turned and snarled at Harry, snapping to try to drive him off. Harry pushed forward, biting at Vilkitas' ankles and pulling him to the ground, latching onto his neck with his jaws and pushing the larger wolf to the ground.

Vilkitas changed back to a human and pulled his arms up in surrender.

Harry let go, sat on his chest, and similarly turned back. "And that is how you tame a werewolf."

"How did he change! It's not a full moon!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Internal policies are not something I need to discuss with you."

"Policies!"

"Indeed. Since we are researching what it is to be werewolf, how having the curse lifted affects those born human or not, what level of control wolfsbain, the moon, and other factors have on the curse, the change, the species... All these points are moot."

There was an uproar of scared protest.

Harry examined his fingernails. "I would be willing to discuss those things, however, if we can pass this law..." He said suggestively.

"Motion to pass." Dumbledore offered into the increasing grumbles. It shocked people into pausing to look at the old coot.

"Motion seconded." The Minister said in annoyance. "Motion passed." She hit the rock down on the magical pedestal, passing it into law. "Let's adjourn for lunch."

"An excellent idea Madame Bagnold." Dumbledore followed her out the door, ignoring a multitude of protests.

"I admit, that I am surprised that you are being so blasé about this whole situation, Albus." The Minister replied.

"Ah, my dear- I have had five years to gain a measure of young Harry. I admit I still have misgivings, but in the end, the research I am doing on how to vanquish him will not yield results for several decades, if it does at all." Minister Bagnold gave Dumbledore an odd look, which he serenely ignored. "In the meantime, there is not much we can do against him. And... he has drastically improved the lives of all werewolves and their potential victims. I much prefer he keep his inquisitive, capricious, pranking person occupied with fun ways to muck about with werewolf inheritance than, say, taking over the world."

"He couldn't really take over the world... could he?"

"My dear, he already has. At least in his mind. It just didn't last very long. I am sure the next time, he will learn from his mistakes and become supreme ruler of the universe without anyone noticing, and hold the position until the end of time." Minister Bagnold started to look a little ill. "Don't worry just yet. He is about to hit puberty. That should definitely distract him and cause no end of consternation for  _ decades. _ "

"Decades?"

"Oh, yes." Dumbledore smiled cheerfully (evilly).

OoOOOoOoO

Epilogue (17 years later)

OooOOOOo

"Well, midget- you almost look like you could be taking OWLs this year. Care for another fifth year?" Marfic asked cheerfully, waving to his twins from their window on the Hogwarts Express.

"Absolutely not. Your brats will have to survive on their own at Hogwarts." Harry shook his head.

"Pity. I am sure you could teach them a thing or two about... things." Marfic smirked. "Well, maybe by the time they have children you will look old enough to get a teaching position."

Harry looked at Marfic with a sick feeling in his stomach. Though his friend said it so casually, the truth was he  _ wouldn't  _ look much older than late twenties when his grandchildren were born. When Marfic is an old man, Harry might be able to go to a bar without being carded. What a depressing thought...

"Marfic, stop trying to corrupt our children!" Elinor smacked her husband on the arm, before tossing her platinum blond hair over one shoulder. She waved enthusiastically as the train started to move, then began to chase it, laughing after her children.

To Harry, the sight was entirely too entertaining as she looked a LOT like a female version of Draco Malfoy. "You definitely did good marrying her."

Marfic smiled happily. "Yes. Not only is she a wonderful wife, she is both a Malfoy and a half-blood, which makes my parents and the Muggle-lovers happy."

"Marfic." Harry chided him.

"Oh, pardon. She is an unofficial bastard of a Malfoy, and they disavow all knowledge of her."

"Marfic!"

"What?" The now thirty five year old schoolmate asked the apparent fifteen year old.

"Just... never mind."

"You know you love me." Marfic laughed, before he turned to accept his wife crashing into his arms and the subsequent kiss.

Harry sighed and shook his head. Next year should be interesting... it would be a full reunion. Jeff and his partner Gary would be bringing their adoptive daughter to the train as well. This year he hadn't been able to make it due to a dance recital.

"Life is good." Harry sighed happily.

/: It would be even better with...:/

/Finish that sentence, and I will remove the erection suppressing spell, silence us, and shove you in charge./ Harry threatened.

/: Oooh... you are evil. You know even a Squib half-blood Malfoy still has Veela in her.:/

/Oh, I am very aware of that./ Harry replied. Seeing as how he had had to reapply the damned suppression spell every few minutes.

/: I approve of your torture methods... but perhaps we could apply them to someone else? :/

Harry raised his wand threateningly.

Voldemort chuckled gleefully.

"The old man still giving you issues, shorty?" Marfic asked over his wife's shoulder.

"Always." Harry laughed.

/: Always... yes.:/

 

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on fanfiction.net under the same name- not edited before being posted here.


End file.
